


Is It Okay?

by Ghostie (KingofPillows)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Attempted Suicide Mention(s), Bad Parenting, Bmc Wing AU, Connor is mentioned a few times, Evil Science, Extreme fear of dogs, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I guess you could consider some of this abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jared is the only DEH character to speak so far, Jeremy's Mom is not a good person, Kids learning to be Kids, M/M, Past Kidnapping, Science, Tags May Change, Torture, in chapter twelve, not a full crossover, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 22:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingofPillows/pseuds/Ghostie
Summary: One thing all of them knew, is that their worlds were far from normal. Friends don't just disappear for six years. Friends also don't have bird wings, but that's a problem for later. One of the many, many problems saved for later. They really just wanted to be okay.It's a BMC Wing AU.





	1. He Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get explained. Things go bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes from one to a hundred damn quick. So if you don't really like descriptions of someone in pain- then I recommend stopping once he hits the floor. Very mild though. Just a warning. Exposition is basically unavoidable at this point tbh. Sorry for any errors.

Jeremiah hated the ceiling in the Centre’s circle. He hated everything in the Centre, but the ceiling above the circle had to be the worst thing. It flat out mocked him for what they didn’t have. The ceiling had a large, solid blue circle painted on it. Decorated with a childish smiling sun and surrounded by crudely painted white clouds. The straight mimic of a child’s drawing.

 He also hated the green padding underneath the mural. Placed in a two-foot deep hole and filled with hard green cushions. Which really was only a small upgrade from the solid white floors that the rest of the white circular room had. With each passing day, Jeremy grew to hate the Centre’s circle just a little bit more.

 Rich paced on the floor around the circle. Bare feet hitting the linoleum with an audible _slap_. Passing the four identical rectangular rooms cut into the sides of the Centre’s white walls. He walked quickly. A hand over his mouth and his brows furrowed. Wings somewhat open and the feathers bristled as he kept going around and around. Thinking. Planning. The edges of his white pants always close to getting stepped on- but never really did.

 Christine sat on the ledge of the circle. Her own short wings resting at her sides. Brooke sat between her knees, back resting against the short wall and wings somewhat open. Letting Christine methodically braid and unbraid her hair.

“I can snap a neck!”

“So can I, Rich. But that doesn’t mean we can blindly run about snapping people’s necks.”

 Jeremy listened to the conversation idly from his position on the floor. Staring up at the ceiling and letting his wings half fold under his back. The conversation was one often repeated between Rich and Christine. Rich would throw out ideas on getting out, and Christine shot them down without mercy. Claiming the pain of idea rejection hurt a lot less than the trouble they’d be in if they went through with it. No matter how good of an idea it was. Rich had the burn scars to prove Christine’s argument nearly every time.

“We can steal a key card!”

“Good idea. Too bad they keep those as far away from us as they keep New Jersey.” Christine held back her eye-roll. Jeremy frowned.

“But what if we did get one?”

“Then we’d leave the same night we had it,” Her sarcasm was heavy.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” Rich was far from joking.

“If it comes true then I’ll say one curse word of your choosing.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Rich got a glare from Christine and promptly ignored it.

“Can we drop the conversation, please?” asked Brooke, quietly fiddling with the hem of her skirt. A chorus of ‘sure’s echoed around her and she said a quick thank you before silence settled over all of them. Using this new-found silence Jeremy thought about what Christine said about New Jersey. God he missed New Jersey. That dreaded mural mocked him for not being there. With his dad and his friends. Running around in the green grass underneath a clear blue sky.

 Most of the memories of his home state were blurred by years of being gone. Six years, to be exact. He couldn’t remember how grass smelled, or how the sun felt on his face. He couldn’t even properly remember the sound of rain. But he did remember his dad’s laugh, his friends’ faces, and Michael’s too-big red hoodie.

 He more vividly remembered the power going out on his twelfth birthday and that he had to go to his Mother’s house the day after for the weekend. He remembered his promise of playing Apocalypse of the Damned with Michael once he got back from his Mom’s house. And regretted breaking that promise when he disappeared the day before he went back to his Dad’s.

 Before Jeremy could start listing off all the promises he broke after leaving- his mind was brought back into the real world by Brooke’s quiet hiss and Christine’s quick apology. She must’ve pulled Brooke’s hair by accident. Brooke simply shook her head and got up. The braid in her hair quickly falling undone with the lack of hair-ties ever since the slingshot incident. Brooke stretched her wings out while her arms reached for the ceiling. Which simply led Jeremy’s ever-wandering mind to do a once-over on all of his friends to make sure they weren’t off.

 Brooke Lohst. She was the third tallest in the group. Seventeen, born in the end of August and the youngest. Her wings- matching that of a blue macaw- were the second largest in the group. She wasn’t happy with her bird-type, or that her wings were so big. But she had the best hearing out of all of them. She was also best at keeping calm and providing comfort wherever needed. Not a mom-friend per say, but more of a cool-aunt friend. On her left arm were three numbers. 007. Rich got a laugh out of it.

 Richard Goranski. Second tallest in the group. Seventeen, Born in June and the second oldest. His wings- those of a brown Northern Spotted Owl- were the second shortest in the group. He was content with his bird-type and often bragged about how cool owls were. He had the most strength out of all of them. Sadly known as the hot-head with a heart and took charge wherever needed. However there weren’t many opportunities to take charge where they were. His three numbers were 548.

 Christine Canigula. She was the shortest in the group, in both height and wing size. Seventeen and born in the beginning of August, making her the second youngest. Her wings matched that of a green budgie. Something she was ecstatic about once the shock wore off. She talked about how her grandmother raised budgies whenever her type was brought up. Christine was the logical one, the best at sensing movement and running. Equipped with a slightly-out-of-date love of theatre and a tendency to daydream during monotonous tasks. Of course, that love was still and unmoving in their arts-less environment. She definitely fit the role for Mom-friend. Her three numbers were 607.

 Everything brought itself back to Jeremy. Who always thought he got the bad end of the stick. He was the oldest at seventeen- but hitting eighteen later that same week. Born in the beginning of March. His wings were the largest and probably the most unfitting. Albino Ferruginous Hawk. Something that stood out already in a long name had the albino patched to the front of it. He hated his bird type. He felt like an overpowered OC and it was not fun. He was the tallest, too. Adding to that feeling. Best at seeing in the dark. A talent not well used in an always lit environment. Known in the group for his unseen anxiety, observation, and quiet feet. His three numbers were 036.

 Christine fiddled with the end of her shirt. All of their clothing, much like everything in their god-forsaken room, were a stark white. The girls in halter-tops, skirts, and knee-length leggings. The boys shirtless- but wearing long white pants. None of them had pockets.

Brooke once told them that she used to keep candy in her pockets when she was younger. She missed doing that. Speaking of Brooke, she had walked to the only flat side of the room. Which ended up being a large, rectangular doorway blocked by tall iron bars.

“We got incoming,” she said quickly, turning to look at the three heads that snapped to look back at her.

“What is it?” Rich asked in slow-building worry. He stopped wearing a ditch into the floor.

“A pair of high-heels and business shoes.” The _click_ of high-heels and high-pitched _clunk_ of male work shoes slowly got louder. Only really noticed until Brooke brought attention to it.

 Jeremy got off the floor, careful not to pull any feathers, and moved to sit next to Christine on the ledge. Brooke crossed the room to sit across from them, and Rich stood near her. All staring at the metal bars and wondering why such important sounding shoes were coming their way this late in the day. Scientists and doctors in the facility usually wore tennis shoes because of their comfort and lack-of-noise. The clicking was causing a rising tension that could easily be split by a knife.

 The smell is what ticked them off that this wasn’t going to end well for someone. The overpowering, suffocating scent of flowery perfume was noticeable long before the bars fell into the ground with a _thunk_. In walked the people in the important shoes followed by two armed guards.

 One of the people standing there was a somewhat angry-looking woman in her late forties. The one who stunk of fake flowers. Dressed in dark heels and a business suit. She had dark brown hair that had been straightened and tied into a tight bun. Her harsh green eyes looked over the teenagers with a stare that could freeze a fire.

 Nancy Heere was an unforgiving, uncaring, and all-around terrifying woman to the kids. Her mere presence would immediately disable any form of back-talk from the four unless they wanted trouble. To all those who disagree, may you look at the fact that her only son sat frozen on the floor with wings on his back.

  Beside her was a tall, imposing man in his mid-thirties. Dressed in a smart business suit and black work shoes. He had shiny black hair that was always gelled back neatly. Hard blue eyes looked into everyone with a cold, judgmental stare.

 Sebastian was a man with no last name, but held every card in the deck. He owned the place, and his own presence brought a deep terror into the kids’ heads. He was cruel, unsympathetic, and wanted nothing but perfection and obedience. Doing anything to get what he wanted. To all those who disagree, simply look at the four teenagers in front of him who were one normal, wingless children.

“Rich Goranski and Jeremiah Heere.”

 Jeremy stood up quickly and locked eyes with Sebastian. Immediately regretting it when his cold eyes got even colder. Rich was already standing, but refused to look at anyone’s eyes.

“Follow.”

 Sebastian was already three steps out the door by the time the boys processed the command. Both scrambling to catch up and not looking back at Christine and Brooke. Who only held worried expressions. Nancy clicked her tongue and followed the teenagers out of the room. The two guards sticking to their sides. The bars rose with a loud _bang_. Soon, the group of six were walking in calm procession down the hallway.

 They passed through a set of locked doors, with yet another hallway on the other side holding colder air than the last. It felt wrong to the boys, and sent shivers down their spines. But they didn’t expect much else. The entire building was usually cold. Either in air or appearance. All decked out in white linoleum paired with off-white walls and hard white lights. Constantly filled with the disturbing scent of a sterile Hospital that the kids didn’t even register as abnormal anymore. The solid white was disturbed by a fire extinguisher, fire alarm, or small room number plates.

 Jeremy watched the ground as he walked. Saw Rich’s reflection in the floor ahead of him. Felt the ends of his primaries drag on the ground, and tried not to let his mother step on one and pull the feather. While he fiddled with his hands, Rich walked with arms at his sides. He was trying to break his nervous nail-biting habit. It was obvious he wasn’t too thrilled about that choice now.

“So,” Rich started in a somewhat quiet voice, “What are we doing?”

 Sebastian looked over his shoulder without breaking stride. “We have a test for both of you.”

“Testing hours are over,” Jeremy interjected softly. Nancy clicked her tongue as Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

“It’s a special test.”

 They walked through multiple hallways and multiple sets of doors. Each new doorway giving Jeremy’s stomach another worried knot. Rich kept his cool, but it was obvious he wanted to fidget too. They stopped in front of a pair of doors. One right beside them and one further down the hallway, separated by a branch in the hallway. There was a buzzer that sounded, and the doors slid open. Releasing a wave of warmer air. Jeremy was dragged down to the second door before the boys were each shoved inside their rooms. Followed by a guard before the doors slid shut behind them.

 Looking around, Jeremy held his right arm with his left hand. Holding tight and pushing his palm on the inside of his elbow. Feeling the small, beady scars of tests-gone wrong press onto his hand. His hand moved to feel the back of his neck. Where similar scars rested. He knew Rich had the same thing, but that was little comfort.

 The room wasn’t special. Save for the one-way glass and the two tables inside. There were two guards in the corners of the window. Glaring at him. There was a table right beside him. Covered in a black cloth obviously hiding objects. The other was parallel and empty. Jeremy moved to sit on the surface. Sitting criss-cross and gripping his ankles. Trying not to look at the guards standing in front of him. The guards didn’t stop looking at him.

 Rich however, as he sat on the cold metal table, stared straight at one of the guards. They always reminded him of the stereotypical British guards one sees on TV. They didn’t emote much unless you did something wrong. Then you’d end up with a bruise. He stayed still and kept staring at the guard, seeing the slight twitch of their discomfort after a few moments of eye-contact. New face. New person. Obviously not as stone-walled as the rest.

 The door opened with a buzz and Rich turned to look over his shoulder. Watching a doctor and a scientist come in. The doctor wore pale grey scrubs and a lab coat, the scientist wore black jeans and a plain white T-shirt under his own lab coat. The monochrome had gotten very old the first year here. Neither of these people were Gerard though, who was probably the best human being in the entire facility. Rich was disappointed and low-key hoped Jeremy had him.

 Gerard was the best. He was much nicer and likely took pity on the teens when they showed up. He usually had a ziplock bag of mixed candy on him during the days he worked with one of the four. Handing them out if they did something well or promising the sweets to them if they could get through something worse than the obstacle run. For tests that were extremely bad, he promised whole, unopened bags that couldn’t be taken away by guards. Something told Rich he’d be seeing a bag of M&M’s on tomorrow’s dinner tray.

 The door closed with a loud buzz and the doctor moved to stand in front of Rich while the scientist ripped the cloth off the table. “Fold your wings,” said the doctor, looking down at a clipboard.

 Rich did as instructed, folding his wings in until he looked like a wing-less human being. The only real indication that he wasn’t what he seemed was the mass of tiny feathers across the backs of his shoulders and down his spine. There was a loud _clunk_ noise as a metal plate was hooked onto his back. Straps wrapping around his waist and under his shoulders.

 This magical little restraint was what the kids called a Shield. They _hated_ Shields. The sole purpose was to keep their wings folded into their backs to gain specific data or not to hit anyone during a fuss. They were made of multiple plates to move with their backs, as to not ruin any information. This was the final hint that this wasn’t going to be a good time.

“Are your senses still working?” The doctor asked. Rich nodded as the doctor- a woman named Sophie if her name-tag was correct- looked up at him with raised eyebrows. She had a pen in hand, unclicked and holding her reading spot on the papers. Prepared to write down answers to rapid fire questions.

“Hearing optimal?”

“Could hear Sebastian walking through the gates earlier.”

“Sight?”

“20/20.”

“What about on your enhanced chart?”

“The same?”

“Hm. What about smell?”

“Smelled Nancy’s perfume a couple minutes before she walked into the Centre.” Sophie frowned.

“A couple of minutes aren’t good enough, 548. Good thing we’re already prepared for that.” Rich could feel his stomach drop as she said that. She was writing something down as she spoke, “You and 036 are due for your monthly sensory enhancements today.”

 The boy’s weren’t fans of sensory enhancements. He and Jeremy called them ‘Upgrades’ casually, but their unspoken name was ‘Hell-in-a-syringe.’ What they did is optimize their hearing, sight, and smell along with updating their immune systems. Brooke and Christine got milder versions to update their hearing- but they never got as bad as the boys’. It still hurt them though.

  Rich could imagine Jeremy’s reaction to this. The tall boy was usually very quiet, and reserved. Doing what he was told without much question or resistance. But when it came to Upgrades- he was vocal and forceful. Putting up a fight until he had to be pinned down by multiple people until the enhancements were done reaping havoc on his body.

  He knew this full well because that was exactly what Rich did every time. So when he was suddenly on the floor, lying on his stomach- two guards pinning his arms, another pushing his forehead into the ground, the scientist holding his legs, and the doctor pinning his lower back with her knee- Rich was very far from surprised.

 He could feel the abnormally large needle being stabbed none-too-gently into the back of his neck. The small feathers on his back raised and he tried to arch his back inwards. But, being pinned the floor restricted him from doing so. Whatever was in that needle was quick to take effect. Quickly setting every nerve in his body on fire. His skin burned, what he could see of the lights were blinding. The people around him made thunder. With every breath or movement of clothing. Someone’s shoe squeaked and it was like someone hit him over the head with a church-bell. Sophie muttered that they weren’t even a third of the way done as Rich bit hard into his cheek.

 This only served to hurt him more. His mind blanked as his chest felt tight and the world stunk of different soaps and hospital chemicals. The increase in the serum sent his nerves even more haywire and his skin felt white-hot fire where he was being held. Echoing through the burn scars on his arms and legs. All of this overwhelmed him, and ripped a loud scream from his throat that only served to hurt his ears more.

 He was thankful for the black spots in his vision. Blocking out the light. Another scream tore from his throat as he felt himself blackout.

 

  **He was not okay.**


	2. They Wondered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are tested. Things are gained. Things are set in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck I write a lot. Exposition is fun. Long chapters are also fun so- yay!

Brooke wasn’t a morning person. She preferred to stay in her own world for as long as possible. Brooke especially wasn’t a morning person when she spent most of the previous night worrying about people she cared for. So when the five o'clock alarm started screaming throughout the Centre- she was less than happy. 

 She sat up in bed. Which, in all honesty, was really just a metal slab sticking out of the wall. Covered in uncomfortable white cushions and a limp, sheet-less pillow. It was bland, just like the rest of the room. A thin, barely visible door was on the far side in the corner. Leading to a bare bones bathroom. The once open wall leading to the rest of the Centre was blocked by more iron bars. The only other thing of interest would be the indent in the wall above the bed, which was supposed to be a small shelf. On Brooke’s shelf was a paper bag of caramels only a quarter full.

 Brooke sat up and looked out of the bars. Seeing Christine already awake and going about popping just about every joint she could while she stretched. Rich was laying face down on his bed. Waving his arm as if that would silence the screaming speakers. Jeremy was up, and stumbling through the small door in his ‘room’. Brooke had just started to stretch when the alarm turned off, her back popping in a satisfying line once the sound stopped.

 Jeremy was the last one to finish stretching when the bars went down. Falling into the floor with no noise and leaving only a line of grey circles where they stood. Allowing all four of them to enter a quickly brightening circle.

 Not even a foot away from the line was a plastic tray. For Brooke this tray was a pale yellow. A piece of white tape had her three digit code written across it in blue marker. Obscured by the water bottle, small plate, and small paper cup resting on the surface. Brooke had swept it up into her hand as she walked to the circle. Sitting criss-cross on the padding with the tray in front of her.

 Christine sat down to her right with a tray the colour of pea soup, Jeremy to her left with a blue-grey tray, and Rich in front of her with an ugly brick-red tray. Each with the same things. The plate carried the bare minimum. Usually a pasty oatmeal, a bright blue ‘yoghurt’, and usually some sort of liquidy mashed potato. The cup had few vitamin pills that were mandatory to take. However, they never really looked like the kind of pills found in stores. Always too chalky or slippery gels. Occasionally the meal would add a dry roll of bread. But this was their meal. Day in, day out. Rich once sarcastically called it the ‘Meal of Champions’. The name stuck.

 Brooke took two gulps of water to down all the pills. She noted Jeremy and Rich trying their hardest not to down the entire bottle of water with the medications. She was thrown back to remembering the first time eating with the others. It was loud, and they nearly wasted their entire eating time talking and hanging on the others’ words. Laughing too loud and smiling so wide. It was nothing like a quiet peace they sat in now. 

  The boys looked like they always did after sensory enhancement shots. Like they’d been dragged face-down through hell. They were shaking, though Rich was much better at hiding it, and exhausted. Rich looked over at a staring Christine with a soft smile. 

Christine returned it with a practiced ‘you look like shit but I’m not going to say that’ smile. They all knew how to do it. They all felt bad that they did.

“Mornin’ Crew,,” Rich said to Brooke and Christine. His voice was hoarse as he held up a water bottle in greeting to both.

“Morning to you too, Richie,” Jeremy replied with a yawn. His voice was also scratched. It made Christine wince at the sound. Rich dramatically rolled his eyes at the nickname. He hated it with some sort of passion. It made it that much more fun to tease him with.

“You look like shit,” Brooke finally said after moments of silence. Rich made a noise of agreement around a mouthful of water. Jeremy simply nodded as he poked the ‘yoghurt’ with a spoon. Christine shot Brooke a pointed look. To which Brooke responded with a cheeky smile. Christine hated cursing, it was something most adults around the building hated hearing from them. The last thing she wanted was one of her friends hurt because of their mouths. Scratch that- the last thing she wanted was her friends hurt  _ period. _

“Feel like shit,” Rich said quickly after swallowing. He gave Christine a knowing grin when he got his own look from her. The room fell into quick silence after that. The four of them knowing full-well they had very little time to eat. 

 Their schedule, much like their meals, was bland. It was the same day on repeat without pause and with very little change.

 The alarm went off at five am. They had five minutes to wake up, take care of themselves and stretch before the bars went down. They had barely fifteen minutes to eat before being separated for testing. Which always ended at seven. Afterwards the kids got fifteen minutes to shower and change clothes. Fifteen minutes to eat in the circle, an hour of free-time before they were locked in their ‘rooms’. They took care of themselves, idled, until the lights went out at nine. Everything started again the next morning.

 On most occasions Brooke woke up seconds before the alarm went off. And she usually fell asleep before the lights clicked off. The only exceptions was when she worried for the boys during upgrades or when she was suffering the after-effects of one.

 It didn’t take very long before a person in scrubs pushed a cart into the room to take the trays. Guards walked in after them to separate the four.

 

\----

 

 Brooke  _ hated _ running the track. She also hated the Gymnasium.

 She hated them almost as much as she hated the shield, but the track was close behind. The track was a quarter mile oval in the centre of a large, bland room. Covered in a grey and light blue material that mimicked gravel. Something a school would have surrounding a football field. The middle had padding like the Centre’s circle and the corners of the room had various equipment to test agility and strength. Occasionally the boys would return from the track claiming to have sparred in the centre. 

 Today, however, there would be no sparring. There was a tall fence surrounding both sides of the track and arching over the top. Brooke could hear the sound of dogs somewhere nearby as she kneeled in preparation to run. Most likely from the box on the straight lead-in to the track. There were a  _ lot _ of dogs.

 Brooke planned to run like their was death at her back. And considering the place they were in, it wasn’t a surprise. But in her mind, there was a horde of monsters preparing to run her down. Dogs were a no-go. Big or small it didn’t really matter. After the fire incident the behavioural staff switched from fire to dogs. Used as a form of negative encouragement or heavy punishment for any wrong actions. Christine had the scar on her leg to prove it. Something about the kids caused dogs to growl and turn aggressive. Maybe it was that they were an abomination to nature. Maybe the dogs were conditioned to hate them, like they were conditioned to fear them. 

 It didn’t matter now. The buzzer sounded and Brooke was running. The dogs’ barking got louder as the pack neared her heels. Catching up to her faster than she expected.

 Brooke  _ really _ hated running the track.

 

\---

 

 Rich was having  _ tons _ of fun. No, he  _ wasn’t  _ being sarcastic. He was having a  _ ball _ with the wires hooked to his skin and his throat still aching from the day before. He was absolutely  _ adoring _ the shield stuck to his back and his limbs being strapped down to the table.  And that dog sitting nearby with a rather threatening guard loosely holding the leash? Oh, such  _ wonder _ . 

 Rich understood full-well that he was a sarcastic little shit.

 Still, he watched helplessly as scientists and very few doctors hovered around the table or staring at monitors around the room that only got more advanced as years went by. One scientist stood next to a console. Every so often someone would say ‘again’ and a switch was flipped, knobs were turned, and a button was slammed. Then, electricity would shoot through the wires like bullets. Looking for ground. Echoing through folded wings and the never-fading scars on his limbs. His cheek had to be bleeding by how hard he bit into it. 

 Currently, there was a break in shocks. Letting Rich wonder if this was worse than last month’s test. Which was really throwing all of the kids into sealed tanks of salt water and waiting. Trying to see how long they could hold their breath and compare it to the same data from the year before. The kids would get breaks during those tests for air. Before they were thrown back with another factor. Electricity, change in temperature, knocking the wind out of them, tieing their wings, folding their wings, too many things were tested. None of them enjoyed feeling water-sick when they swallowed too-much salt water.

 So yeah. Rich was having  _ tons _ of fun. 

 

\--- 

 

 Christine wasn’t having that bad a time. Sitting on a metal table in a look-alike Doctor’s office. Looking out the window to the hallway and spotting the figure of a big dog staring back at her through glass. Sebastian glaring at her from  beside the animal, arms crossed behind his back calmly. Even though she wore a shield, a guard held back her shoulders so she wouldn’t jerk away from the nurse holding the needle to her arm. Taking blood samples. 

 She didn’t particularly hate needles. Not as much as Rich or Jeremy. But she didn’t like the scars the metal points left on their arms. Christine uncrossed and crossed her legs again. Feeling pins prick at the bottom of her foot from the lack of moving. The nurse had taped a cotton ball to her left arm when he was finished. He stepped to the side and allowed a woman in a coat walk over. She wore monochrome scrubs, lab coat, and medical mask. Like many of the people here. She pushed a small cart holding an assortment of needles. 

 See, the problem with this situation is that they thought they were being sly. When, in fact, Christine knew exactly what was coming. They would try to trick her. Distract her by putting useless chemicals into her bloodstream to ‘see what they do’. Make her wings burn or nose itch. And while she was ‘distracted’ with that, another doctor would come up behind the guard and stab an Upgrade into her neck. They did this because Christine loved to use her legs and kick whoever came near with the larger needle.

 As the nurse seized her wrist and pulled her right arm straight, the doctor pulled a clear substance into a thin needle. The guard held tighter to her shoulders and Christine could smell another person sneak into the room. As the doctor’s needle pierced her vein. The liquid started a dull burn in her wings. Someone’s foot scuffed on the ground and then Christine felt pure agony.

 

\---

 

 Jeremy could handle an obstacle course with the best of times on the board. He’d even stoop low enough to say that he  _ liked _ the courses. They certainly were his favourite test, which said a lot because he hated everything he had to do in the facility. But this would be his fourth run in two hours and it was starting to get boring. This one wasn’t going to be as fun as Jeremy hoped it would be.

 It was lovingly filled with things meant to hurt him. Sharp objects put in not-so-obvious places. Pools of not-very-shallow water. Small perches. Things that shoots out of the wall. Turrets with motion sensors. Adding to the mess were the dull lights and the odd blue glow from the underwater lighting. The semi-darkness didn’t bother him much, but didn’t make it easier.

 At least he wasn’t wearing a shield. His open wings making it easier to block objects or knock things over sooner. Jeremy wished he could just fly through the course. Something in his head told him that if he could fly, it would come naturally. The feathers weren’t clipped and the scientists wouldn’t think about doing that. But he didn’t know how to fly, and he never had space to learn. Leaving him stuck on the ground like everyone else and wishing he could be in the air. 

 Jeremy took a knee and waited for the buzzer to sound before he ran off to greet the first turret.

 

\---

 

 At the end of the day- after going through showers and cleaning up- the four were shoved into the Centre. Wearing stark white replicas of their previous clothing. Sitting on the ground in front of their rooms were the dinner trays. The same exact meal, the cup of vitamin pills replaced by bread. All of them sat in a circle, trays before them, Rich rolled his shoulders after he sat down. Brooke worked her neck until it gave a loud  _ pop _ . Christine was downing her food slightly faster than normal. Looking for something to make her throat stop hurting to badly. Jeremy idly pressed a finger on a healing wound from a hidden turret that hit his calf. It was nearly fully healed by that point- but ached none-the-less.

 “So!” Rich began, coating his sarcastic tone with even more sarcasm. His voice was less scratchy and it didn’t make Christine wince. “What did you all do today? Have any  _ fun _ ?”

 Brooke groaned loudly. “I got chased by dogs and then Upgraded. Then I had sensory evaluations and got chased by dogs. Again!”

“Got blood work and then an Upgrade right off the bat. Then they did another isolation test,” Christine said, finishing off the yoghurt with a disgusted expression. Whether it was for the food or the final test, no one knew.

 Jeremy rolled his eyes and took a swig of water. “Obstacle course. With Turrets!!” His fake enthusiasm was unappreciated as he leaned against the ledge. His voice was better, at least. Something in his tone warned Brooke that he was exhausted. And when Jeremy got exhausted, he tended to not leave his filter on. Which usually led to very interesting things being said. “What about you, Rich?”

“It was… fun. But get this-” Rich leaned in like he was telling a campfire story. Prompting the others to do the same. “Electric Shock Resistance Building.”

“No way,” Brooke said loudly.

“Didn’t they do all they could with that last February?”

“Apparently not,” Rich answered as he shrugged and downed the last of the oatmeal. “Guess they’re running out of things to do.” Jeremy sarcastically snorted at this. 

“It’s been six years. If they’re running out of data to collect then they’re going to think of more crazy shit for us to do.” Christine shot a glare at him but he only gestured to her with the open water bottle. “It’s true. They’re gonna make us do crazy shit until we drop dead or they kill us.” Christine rolled her eyes and shook her head at his pessimism. 

“It’s March first!” Brooke suddenly yelled, scaring all of them. Jeremy would’ve jumped five feet if he wasn’t eating.

“Yeah, and?” Rich questioned, poking the side of her empty water bottle and knocking it over. 

“Jeremy’s birthday is on Friday!  _ Duh _ !” Brooke said with a grin. Her excitement was new and relieving. It infected Christine to the point that she held her own smile.

“I nearly forgot,” She said.

“How do we even know if it’s on a Friday? We don’t exactly have the luxury of a labeled calendar. We only got a whiteboard that’s barely up-to-date.” Jeremy gestured to the whiteboard outside of the bars. On it was the month, date, and year in black marker. No weekdays following. 

“Either way, you’re turning eighteen in five days.”

 Jeremy dramatically rolled his eyes but smiled either way. Sarcastically he said, “yes. The big eighteen. That has such an effect on me as a person, and changes my life within these walls immensely.” 

 Christine frowned, “You’re being pessimistic again.”

“Sorry I just don’t see the point in birthdays anymore. I’m going to be a legal adult to the world outside, we all are eventually. But we’re still children in here. Fuck just look at the ceiling. What’s the point in keeping track of numbers when we’re never going to exist outside of this?” Jeremy threw his hands in the air.

 Just as he finished talking the bars opened up. In walked Gerard. He was a tall Filipino man with a kind face. Hitting his late thirties but still appearing young. Dressed in jeans, a grey t-shirt, and the standard scientist lab coat- he pushed the dinner cart into the room. 

 Brooke smelled plastic bags and candy in his pockets, this was confirmed when the empty trays were stacked on the cart and Gerard handed Rich a decently sized bag of M&M’s. The bag was shut with two staples on one end. Jeremy was handed a bag of Jolly Ranchers shut in the same fashion.

“Sorry boys,” Gerard said. His voice was laced with a heavy accent that was easy on their ears. “Security opened them to look inside. Don’t want any objects for escape slipped inside some candy. I improvised so they wouldn’t spill.” Gerard pulled out a mini stapler and clicked it twice. “Oh, and Happy early birthday, Jeremiah. Hope it’s a good one.” There was something in his smile that he offered, it wasn’t caught but it was there. He turned to talk away.

“Good luck tomorrow, kids. See you around.”

 Gerard pushed the cart and out the doors. He was gone before the bars were up all the way. The farewell didn’t sit right with the kids. Whenever Gerard worked the dinner cart he wished them luck on tests, gave them a heads up on tomorrow, and wished them good night. He worked with at least one of them every day. Either indirectly or directly. Seeing them was inevitable. 

 Jeremy shrugged this off and removed the staples. Planning on sharing the candies as Brooke got up to grab her bag of caramels. Candy sharing was always more fun when there were more than two types. Jeremy reached into his bag as Rich pulled the second staple out of his.  Intending to pull out a handful when he felt something else brush his fingers. Jeremy pulled the candy out and dropped it on the floor- and looked into the bag at what he had touched. He froze and looked up at Rich- who had done the same as he did except with more of a facial expression.

 They shared a look as a wide grin crossed Rich’s face. Jeremy felt his exhaustion be replaced by excitement. Brooke walked over and gestured for all of them to move closer. Christine had just adjusted in their tight circle when Rich whispered, 

“You’re going to say ‘fuck’ as loud as possible once we’re in the clear.”

 

**They wondered if they would be okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed <3 If there are any errors please, do tell me. I'll fix them right up!


	3. They Felt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They shout. They fight. They run. They-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inconsistent update schedule. Woooooo!!! If there are any errors please point them out!! (I re-wrote this chapter like five times omfs)

  The Centre's security cameras were usually monitors by lazy guards at night. They stopped expecting the kids to run after the first group incident. The punishments of which the four never wanted repeats of. That, and they had no way out in the first place. There were too many guards. Too many locked doors. There was no possible way for them to touch a key card without getting a smack to the head with a tranquilliser gun, a black eye, or a ruthless bite from a dog. So the four were usually stuck in their rooms. Fast asleep in the semi-dark Centre behind barred cells until the five o'clock alarm. Asleep just like those guards watching the cameras. Tonight was no different. 

  For the guards. 

  Jeremy had rolled off the bed and grabbed for the small bag of candy on the shelf. Holding it tight. The candy inside it was gone. All of it eaten by the four whose bodies refused to get close to a sugar high. The clock in the hallway could be seen through the bars. It was getting close to midnight.

  There were small, white lights surrounding the ceiling mural. Dulled and leaving an eerie glow on the white surface around them. Those were the only things providing vision for anyone, and severely messed up their night vision. But they all could deal. The halls outside the Centre were darker than this and would be much easier to see in. Jeremy moved to kneel at the far right of his room. 

"You up?" Christine stage-whispered.

"Yeah. Everyone ready?" Jeremy replied in the same volume. He was looking over the rooms on the other ride of the Centre. Rich mumbled a yes as he rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a soft  _thump,_ clutching the M&M bag in one hand. Kneeling in a running position with his wings folded in his back. Like everyone else's. "Get ready to move fast," Jeremy said, slipping a plastic card from the Jolly Rancher bag and allowing the plastic to fall to the floor.

"Gotta  _go_ fast," Rich chuckled to himself. Earning a well-deserved glare from Christine. Jeremy rolled his eyes and slowly stood up to slip his arm through the bars. Holding the key card to the scanner, it gave a small beep and a green light turned to red. The bars fell into the ground with almost no noise. With that- everything moved in a sequence. 

  Jeremy had run across his room to slam the card over the scanner to Christine's room. Waiting tense seconds for the light to change so he could race to do the same to Brooke and Rich. Once Rich was free, he slammed the M&M bag into Jeremy's chest and took the keycard from Jeremy's hand. Racing across the room to grab the guard on the other side by the back on his shirt. 

  The guard spun around and made Rich lose his grip. It returned to the front of the guard's shirt and Rich pulled back. Slamming the guard's head into the iron bars and dropping them into the floor. Rich slid the card in the scanner and the bars dropped with a  _THUD_. The guard was out cold. Rich plucked the guard's key card from their belt and tossed the new one to Jeremy as he ran up with the girls. Jeremy slid it into the open candy bag that held at least three others. 

  Then they were off.

  Adrenaline raced through their veins as they rocketed down the dark hallway. Jeremy leading to unlock the first set of doors, Christine took the lead after that, Jeremy called forks in the hallway before the others could see them, Brooke called out any noise in unknown halls, and Christine took turns like she knew were she was going. They trusted her to lead them out. They practically leaped up stairwells and flew through turns. They ran one so quick Rich almost slipped and ran his shoulder into the wall. The facility was  _far_ bigger than they were led to believe.

  They stopped at a T in the hall after some time. "Which way!?" Brooke said, a bit too loud, as red lights popped from the walls and started to slowly spin. Casting confusing lights through once pitch darkness and making everything much harder to see. Christine looked both ways, spun in a small circle before turning left without a second thought.

"I think I know the way out!" Christine yelled as sirens started echoing through empty hallways. "They left a fire escape map uncovered in the doc's office today," she burst through a pair of doors and led the way up another stairwell. Hitting the landing first and turning to look at the nearing others. "Talk about convenient."

  Dogs started barking somewhere behind them. Somewhere on the same hall level too. Boots matched the sources. Yelling somewhere else. A radio. Noise. So much noise. That didn't deter them. It only made them move faster. They ran through hallway after hallway. Getting farther than they ever had before. Guards started showing up with tranquilizers. Rich knocked out the first guard. And it went like that. Guards would come up- someone would attack. Brooke managed to rip a fire extinguisher off the wall and smash it over a guard's head.

  They used the cards Gerard had given them, and the few they had stolen, to unlock doors and gates. Locking some behind them to stall pursuers and stop dogs just a little bit longer. They kept going until there wasn't any more stairwells going up. They kept knocking out guards and people who got in their way until there weren't any spaces ahead for them to come from. Rich was positive he decked doctor Sophie at some point. Accidentally or not. 

  Rich had tried every key card they had to unlock the final door. Large and split in two. Probably to open dramatically for whoever entered. None of them worked until Rich had slammed the first card, Jeremy's card, into the scanner. The door gave off a loud  _BUZZ_ and slowly started to open. A gate far down the hall opened up and Brooke could hear shouting. Once there was a gap for the wingless Christine to slip through- she took off. Brooke right behind her, followed by Rich and Jeremy. 

  They were in an underground parking garage. Lit by unsettling orange lights that discoloured the grey concrete. Not many cars were parked in the structure thanks to the hour. What cars did exist, the kids avoided. Rich managed to hurdle a motorbike someone had left. They reached ground level. Rich could smell the faint breeze. Jeremy could see the ramp leading out into the night. The level was filled with military-esque vehicles and suspicious black armoured cars. They ran through and past all of them. Jeremy caught sight of a clock over a security booth next to the ramp. 11:55pm. It was the same night. It was the same night and they were so close to being free.

  They either hurdled or slid under the security bar. Passing the booth housing a heavily confused security guard. The guard held a heavily confused expression as he watched four teenagers run out into the spring's cool night air. Like he never expected to see people so young in a place like that.

  The road was single and stretched far out ahead of them. Framed by mass amounts of tall trees. The toad was old and cracked. Asphalt rocks dug into their bare feet as the four shot down it like Olympic runners being chased by death. They could care less about the rocks though. They could care less about the cold, sharp air in their lungs. The natural moonlight filtering through fast-moving clouds. The breeze biting their skin. All they cared about now was running. Running far away from the shouting men, barking dogs, and the revving engines of cars in the garage they so gracefully abandoned. 

"We need to get up!" Rich shouted, unfolding his wings and letting them open.

"We don't know how to  _fly_!" Jeremy countered while also letting his wings open.

"There's no other options unless you want to run through the woods and get eaten by a dog." Christine was right.

"Plus there's no time like the present to learn!" Rich had started running in the grass along side the road. His wings open to their full extent. Taking long strides and repeatedly jumping into the air. Holding himself for longer and longer. The cars had left the garage and were starting to near. Dogs had been let out earlier.

"We need to go  _NOW_ ," Christine shouted as her and Brooke unfolded their wings. They spread out on the road for space. Jeremy running in the grass on the opposite side. Rich managed to get into the air. Christine naturally took to the sky. Brooke and Jeremy had more trouble with take off.

  A dog was close behind them and it wouldn't take long before it lunged for either a leg or a wing. Brooke yelped when she heard it snarl and took to the sky rapidly. Moving somewhat faster above the road and Jeremy. With a quiet 'fuck it' under his breath, Jeremy jumped high and took to the sky. Causing Rich to lead everyone higher into the air. Just as a car decided to get too close for comfort. 

  The four darted upwards. Christine flew smooth, Rich was shaky, Brooke was uneven and Jeremy was wobbly. But they still rocketed through the air with all the energy they had. Beats sloppy, but still pretty good for first-time fliers. The cars were fading behind them and people turned into ants. Jeremy caught himself grinning from ear to ear when he couldn't hear the cars.

They were free.

 

\---

 

  Of course, being free didn't hide the fact that they were terrified and far from an adrenaline crash. Finding themselves being pulled by some invisible rope into a direction they didn't know. Cutting through the darkness with ease. Ignoring the cool night air biting any exposed skin as they flew. Over trees and under stars. Focused on getting as far away from the  _place_ as possible.

 Jeremy was at the back of the group. Beating his wings in long, strong strokes and gliding for about thirty seconds before beating again. Moving his feathers to comply with winds without a second thought. Arms loosely at his sides and legs together. It all came so naturally. A rhythm he didn't need to think about to keep doing. He watched the others go through their own rhythms.

  Christine took the right side of the group. Flying just a bit higher than the rest. Beating her wings in hard, quick strokes and leaving only seconds to glide in between.

  Rich took the front. Flying in near the same manner, but with softer, slower beats.

  Brooke took the left. Carrying herself with even, calm strokes and gliding almost as long as Jeremy in between. 

  The air around them was filled with a new world. Sounds and smells. Wind whipping past their ears with a dull howl. Birds were dealing with loud chicks in nests down below. Animals in the trees or on the ground. A city was somewhere. A highway with rushing cars. Barely audible that high over the wind. There was the strong smell of grass, trees, and flowers after rain. Jeremy could smell all of it. Smell the sharp air and feel it sting his throat. The sky was a dark blue, filled with white dots and a curved moon. Thin, tiny purple clouds would pass over that moon every now and then. Oh the kids loved it.

  They flew for longer than they thought possible. They flew until the edge of the sky turned orange and Christine started to lag. Letting herself glide longer and longer between beats. Everyone had slowed down to keep her near. This kept going until she dropped in altitude suddenly- and caught herself in seconds.

"I think I need a break," she said, exhaustion in her voice. Everyone couldn't help but agree. The adrenaline had worn off and the weight dragged at their limbs. Rich scanned the ground and pointed to a clearing up ahead. 

"Land there," he said. Naturally, the descent downwards was simple and the landing hard. Most of them landing in the most ungraceful ways. But they were on the ground either way. They dragged themselves from the exposed clearing into  the shade of the trees lining it. Brooke lay on her stomach in a big clump of grass. Pulling it and making her own pile beside her elbow. Wings stretched out to their full length around her.

  Rich was wandering around. Looking up at all the trees at the changing sky. Feeling grass and dirt under his toes and being able to process this. He jumped up on a rock and surveyed their surroundings. Christine leaned against said rock. Eyes shut and breathing even. She was out like a light. Jeremy was laying on his back near Brooke. Wings outstretched like his arms. Staring up through the canopy with a sleepy smile. He didn't bother trying to fight off sleep as his eyes began to droop.

  Brooke wasn't far behind. Using her bent arms as a pillow and ignoring the grass tickling her skin. Rich decided sleep would be the best idea. He laid on his side in the grass. Wings folding around him like the perfect blanket replacement. He trusted Jeremy to wake up if there was trouble, as he was the lightest sleeper out of all of them. Brooke was the opposite. She slept through the alarms too many times in the past to  _not_   be called a deep sleeper.

 

   **They felt okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. The babes. They're free. Fair warning- the next few chapters are going to be... dramatic. Fairly angsty with little humour. Can't go through all this shit and /not/ have problems (that I legit forgot to hint at in the last two chapters. Whoops.)
> 
> Also- I'm gonna push this and say I have a Character ref post up on my blog? I'll put the link to it so... check it out if you want.
> 
> https://techietheshit.tumblr.com/post/162730319930/be-more-chill-wing-au


	4. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They eat. They talk. They fly. One sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dramatic children ahead. Very dramatic. Also- I forgot to hint at VERY IMPORTANT things to the plot/characters in the past three chapters and I don't know how to add it in w/o adding like- three paragraphs to past chapters. So they're dropped here but it seems out of place and kinda sudden??? So I'm sorry about forgetting them and how weird all of it is.

  The kids had flown for three nights after that. Taking rests in trees or hidden safe spots. Sleeping during the bright day to fly in the cooler, darker night. Flying southeast, out of what they found was Michigan. They flew until they sat in a cave outcropping on some mountain. A city was not too far away. Just beginning to light up as the sun went to sleep.

  Jeremy, as per usual, was the first one awake. Not wanting to actually be awake. He really wanted to sleep for forever. Maybe it was because of the six years of strict schedule being broken for their safety- or the nightmares that always plagued his sleep. Either way- he was exhausted. Jeremy found himself falling into the same wake-up routine he’d followed for the last two years. Search the room, do a headcount, stretch, pop every joint in his body, and wait for everyone else to do the same. He had just finished popping his knees when he noticed Christine up and in the middle of stretching. Jeremy walked to the mouth of the cave and sat down. Allowing his legs to hang over the side.

  He enjoyed the cool breeze and ignored the nightmarish grass and dirt stains on his pants. The sinking feeling in his chest had grown the past few days. The shock and excitement of being outside of their own hell was ebbing away. Giving Jeremy space in his head to figure things out and organize his thoughts.

  Jeremy was one of the two in the group who found out that was afraid of people. No, not afraid, more like overcome by complete fear and panic. All of this was more pointed to adults. Doctors and guards, to be specific. Still, the thought of being in crowds was terrifying. Which was somewhat hypocritical, considering Jeremy was scared to death of being alone again.

  Thinking of that brought on a wave of completely new memories. Memories he didn’t want. Subconsciously, Jeremy had placed a hand over his right forearm. Rubbing his thumb over a scar on the inner side of it. Sitting just under his wrist. Looking like a blotch of paint the size of a dollar coin and thinning out to a line at his elbow. He was ashamed of it. Ashamed to see it. Ashamed about what it meant and what caused it. He ignored it as much as possible. And it worked.

  Christine had finished the common routine as Rich stirred and shifted in his sleep. She walked over to lean casually on the cave wall next to Jeremy. Looking over the same view with the same fondness. Arms and ankles casually crossed. Christine was the heavy optimist. Always had been, always would be. She wanted to give outside people a chance. Not all of them were out to get them. Not all of them were rude, mean, or cruel.

  At some point, Christine had ripped two slits in her skirt. One over each of her thighs. ‘They make running easier’ she had explained. The leggings made it more comfortable to wear it in the first place. Brooke had done the same. While Rich had ripped the bottoms of his pants off at the knees so he wouldn’t trip on them. Jeremy rolled the bottoms over his ankles like a sane human being.

“Guess who’s birthday is in a few hours?” Christine hummed, smiling and glancing down at the older teen on the ground. Jeremy leaned back on his arms and kicked his legs out. Wings folded at his sides. Both of them could feel the warmth of the sun-soaked ground seep into the air and cool off in the disappearing light.

“Let me guess, Aaron Burr?”

“Who?”

“The guy who killed Alexander Hamilton? We learned this in sixth grade, Christine.”

“Why do you even _remember_ that?”

“Why don’t you?”

  Christine laughed and rolled her eyes. “But you’re wrong on the answer. Have any wishes this year, soon-to-be-birthday-boy?”

  Jeremy held out a leg to inspect it casually. Trying to think of what to say as any trace of an existing smile vanished. “I don’t do birthday wishes.” Christine frowned and moved to sit next to Jeremy. Gripping the ledge to lean forward and see his face.

“Want to tell me why?” Low-key, Jeremy was both hoping for this question and wanted to avoid it. He knew the answer was more complex than he could say without being dramatic. But he was free to say anything out here. No one was there to yell at him for it. He decided to be semi-dramatic.

“Well… You know about the not celebrating thing. And the insignificance. And the time. The only other reason is that I tried and they never came true. Not until it was too late.”

  Christine was quiet, staring directly into Jeremy’s somewhat downcast face. “Still,” she began, “it’s good to have at least something to hope in. We’re starting new lives out here! We can break habits and start new ones. Good ones. Better ones. Experience the world the way we were supposed to. We can start by making a wish.”

  Jeremy looked over and offered a small smile. He was going to give an answer when there was a sudden-

“ _FUCK_ I’M HUNGRY.”

“Language!”

“Don’t tell me about language, you still owe me that curse!” Rich shouted back as he rolled off his side and stood up. Hearing his back give a loud _POP_ as he did. Rich was walking over to the two as Brooke sat up. Rubbing her eye with the inside of her wrist and yawning.

  Christine rolled her eyes and stood up, cupping her mouth with both hands. With a deep breath of air, she grinned and yelled a loud ‘FUCK’ into the setting sun. She sat down as Rich continued talking.

“That was pretty good. But seriously though, I’m actually starving. I might die.” he crossed his arms and put his weight on one leg. Jeremy laughed and Christine shrugged.

“Same here,” Brooke echoed as she stood. Stretching her arms over her head and yawning again. Her shoulders popped and she sighed, moving to sit and lean against the wall behind Jeremy. Rich paced a line from wall to wall. Hand over his mouth as he thought of way to obtain a meal. Christine had twisted to lean on the wall the opposite of Brooke. One leg hanging over the ledge as she watched Rich with amusement.

  Rich was the one who was wary of people. Defensive and cautious, but still semi-comfortable with the idea of going out in public. Brooke leaned more towards Jeremy’s issue. Still massively more comfortable in crowds- but still heavily untrusting. She was also the only other one who equally shared his massive fear of being alone.

“What about a soup kitchen?” Christine suggested.

“Are any open this late?” Rich asked, not stopping his constant moving. It was his habit.

“I think it’s only seven thirty,” Brooke said.

“How do you know that?” Jeremy wondered, swinging his legs and trying not to hit Christine’s foot.

“Just a guess.”

“We steal from a seven eleven!” Rich exclaimed loudly.

“People _buy_ food. Not steal.” Christine shot down.

“We steal someone’s money and buy food from a seven eleven.”

“ _No_! We aren’t going to steal someone’s money!”

“We can’t legally buy food without money!”

“We can’t walk around ruining our sense of morality!”

“ _Morality_ doesn’t buy chips!”

“Morality keeps you from getting _arrested_!”

“What difference is jail when you’re _us_!?” Rich shouted, then froze in place when he noticed the tense air that sprouted from his words. “Sorry I- _fuck_.” He held his temples in one hand and shook his head.

“How about we fold our wings and walk around town? Find options there?” Brooke suggested.

“Are you also saying we should shoplift?” Christine asked.

“We don’t have many options,” Brooke shrugged.

“Brooke Lohst. Criminal at large,” Rich said jokingly. Brooke grabbed a thin layer of dirt off the ground and playful threw a fistful in Rich’s direction. Rich laughed and went back to pacing.

“First, I don’t agree with stealing. That’s obvious. Second, it is most likely our only option for food. Third, We _need_ to eat something because we haven’t eaten since the last dinner round back… _there_."

"Duh!!" Rich interjected.

" _Fourth_ , I don’t have to remind us that we have feathers on our backs at all times? I don’t like being the captain obvious but we don’t exactly have shirts to hide them.” Christine listed everything off on one hand. Rich opened his mouth to make a suggestion after a bit of contemplating silence. Christine shot it down without letting him make a sound.

“ _We’re not stealing someone’s shirt._ ”

 

\---

 

  They stole someone’s shirt.

  Granted, no one was wearing it and it was just sitting in a box filled with others just like it. Some kind of shirt advertising a fundraiser to save a local breed of bird. No one would really care if a pair went missing. Jeremy and Brooke had stayed back at the cave- so Rich had been the one to snatch two of the bright blue shirts from the box without their owner noticing. So Christine and Rich pulled on the shirts, that were sizes just a bit too big, behind a Hobby Lobby before starting their walk down the streets.

  Their job now was to figure out what to do next. Ignoring the cars and noise around them. They had walked for half an hour before spotting one Seven Eleven on the street corner. Rich nudged Christine and she rolled her eyes.

“Alright. I get that we’re hungry,” Christine started.

“Hungry! We’re _starving_!” Rich interrupted.

“And robbing a store isn’t good-”

“Even I know that.”

“But we stick out like sore thumbs in these clothes. Filthy pants and clean shirt? We’re also filthy and don’t have pockets.” Christine finished quickly. “How are we going to steal if we can’t hide the loot?”

“We go in talking about… uh.” Rich’s eyes landed on another fundraiser poster on the walls of a Denny’s, “a mud run! We talk about practicing for a mud run while picking up things to ‘buy’. Then when we go to checkout you hang by the door- I wait for everything to get in a bag- then we book it! Boom, boom, boom. Simple!”

“What is a mud run?”

“A marathon but like, you run through mud. Very messy. Roger did one with Mom before she-” Rich stopped and shook his head.

“We’re covered in dry dirt. Not mud.”

“They don’t know how fast mud dries.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

  There was really nothing else to do other than slip into an alley and try to change their appearance. Christine had parted her hair the other way and let it hang over her eye. Rich decided it would be easier to hunch and appear shorter than he really was. Letting his face adopt a ‘resting bitch face’ for the time being. Once they were satisfied they walked down to the store, carrying themselves in different gaits than normal.

“That practice was hard, man.” said Rich as they passed by the cashier. A tired looking college student scrolling through his phone. He had glanced up at them briefly before continuing. Rich purposely tried to speak in a voice that was higher pitched and scratchy. Cracking his words halfway through the sentence. “Can’t wait for the mud run, though.”

“Yeah. When did you say it was?” Christine asked, picking up a bag of chips and pretending to read over the back. Her voice was nasally and words drawn out.

“Dunno.”

“Ask Tina.” Rich was thrown off and spun around to face Christine. Who looked back at him expectantly. Was this improv acting? Did Christine remember how to do improv? It was best to follow her lead.

  They continued their conversation while walking around, picking up chips, protein bars, and drinks. Until they had enough for everyone to tide them over for a flight. Then they walked up to the counter like they intended to pay for all of it. Christine stood off by the door and mimicked a yawn. Trying to sell that she was exhausted.

  Rich waited patiently for everything to be scanned, and once the bag was set on the counter he moved as if he was going to pull a wallet from his pocket and reaching for the bag with his other hand. The cashier- Rich didn’t bother with reading the nametag- asked cash or credit and Christine went to walk out. Holding to door for Rich boredly. Rich answered by gripping the bag tight, giving a two finger salute and dashing through the open door faster than one would expect. Both of them were racing down the street and a worker staring after them.

  They ditched the shirts in a dumpster behind the same Hobby Lobby as before. Far from the scene of their petty crime. Christine had fixed her hair during the run and Rich had tied the top of the bag into a knot. Then they had returned to the others to eat.

  Sitting in a circle, each with a water bottle, a bag of chips, and two protein bars, felt fake. They hadn’t had anything but bread, water, vitamin pills, pudding, or candy in forever. And the fact that it wasn’t on a cheap plastic tray didn’t help solidify if it was a dream or not.

  However once the food was opened there wasn’t a single hope for it. Even with how little there was the teenagers had been happy about the morally wrong decision. Even if Christine was still bitter about two thefts in one night. They ate in silence, and finished in fifteen minutes. The food hadn’t filled them, not by a long shot, but all of them were content.

“Wait, how are we going to throw the trash away?” Jeremy asked, looking around the small cave for a place to properly ditch the litter.

“Leave it where it is?” Rich suggested.

“That’s littering! An animal could get hurt!” Jeremy argued.

“What animals? It’s a _cave_ in a _mountain_!”

"Bats!!"

“Boys- _enough_!” Christine said, standing and starting to gather the trash into the plastic bag. “There’s a campsite ten minutes away from here. I can fly over, drop the trash in a bin, and then we can be on our way.”

“Will you be fine on your own?” Brooke asked, looking slightly worried. Christine shrugged and then ran to take off. She was out of sight in seconds. Jeremy went back to the ledge. Propping up a heel on the edge and kicking the other leg out into the night air. “Where are we heading?”

  Brooke had stretched and went to sit how she was earlier. Leaning against the wall and loosely hugging her knees to her chest. She stared out across the trees, at the city lights. A blip muting some of the recently awakening stars. Rich sat next to Jeremy and shrugged.

“Southeast.” He was quiet for all of two minutes before his mind blurted out the question in his head. “Do you think they’re mad?”

  Jeremy raised and eyebrow and Brooke tilted her head. “Who? Jeremy asked.

“People. Like Jake and-”

“Chloe and Jenna?”

“Michael and dad?”

“Yeah… We were all really close. Some more than others. Mr.Heere loved all of us too. But do you think they’re mad at us?”

“Why would they be mad? We were twelve-”

“Excuse you. _Rich and I_ were twelve. _You and Christine_ were still eleven.” Jeremy sassed with a grin. Rich gave a one-note laugh, Brooke shrugged.

“Whatever age we were- we were still _kids_. Kids without any reason to run away. Why would they be mad at children for disappearing?” Brooke finished.

“I dunno! It’s just… It’s obvious we’re going to Jersey right now. What if we run into them before we’re ready? And if I’m right, our disappearance hurt them. What if they’re mad about that? What if they hate us because they blame us for what we were framed for?”

“I understand where you’re coming from, and you might be right,” said Jeremy. He got looks.

“You think?”

“Yeah. I had this similar line of thinking a while ago. Before Brooke and I were put in the Centre with you and Christine. In the beginning. In… in the Cell,” Brooke expression soured at the name and Jeremy took a deep breath to continue, “I thought that everyone hated me for ‘leaving’. Because they believed Nancy’s stupid note or whatever. And it hurt. A lot. Thinking that everyone hated me for something I didn’t really do, or had any control over. But in the beginning I also had a lot of hope that everyone would think it suspicious and see past the lie. Because we were all family. Blood or not, we were. Still are. So they had to be thinking ‘ _Jeremy wouldn’t leave for no reason! This is a fake!_ ’. And try to find me. And that gave me hope for escape. Even after all this time, even if they believe we abandoned them on purpose- maybe they have hope that it was a lie.” Jeremy was looking at Rich now. Who hung on his words.

“So to answer your original question, Rich. Yes. They could possibly hate us.” Rich’s expression fell. “But maybe they have hope that it was a lie. And if they really do- we tell them the truth. We have wings, the real story, proof that we aren’t lying. Even though it’s really hard to talk about it… they have a right to know.”

  Everyone sat in silence until Christine returned. Not long after- they all took off. Flying fast for what they hoped would be the rest of the night. Rich tried to liven the boring silence with flying below everyone and trying to spin. Laughing loudly when he almost fell out of the sky. They all kept going for five fast-moving hours.

  They could’ve gone longer, if it wasn’t there. Could’ve avoided it too- if it was seen. But they hadn’t seen the wall of water until they were underneath it. A sea of dark clouds throwing heavy drops of rain to pelt the ground and the kids.

  They had learned long ago, that waterlogged wings were incredibly heavy. And most of them had they type of bird wings that couldn’t handle flight in rain. But there was nowhere to land- the ground wasn’t even visible to Jeremy- and had to keep pressing through until they could find something.

  There was a bright flash of light and the echoing _boom_ of thunder somewhere in the distance. The noise made both Jeremy and Rich freeze for half a second. Forgetting the rhythm as their focus was aimed at their racing hearts beating in their ears. Rich had yelped and faltered. Dropping ten feet at least before he sloppily caught himself. Regaining rhythm. Jeremy too remembered how to fly. Keeping their rhythms proved harder than before.

  Thunder crashed again. Christine had lost her rhythm in her panic to assist Rich once the second crash sounded. Brooke had to catch her arm before Christine dropped like a stone. She was probably doing the best at flying. Not top quality, and not easily, but better than the others. Brooke pulled Christine up higher as she caught her rhythm again. Rich caught himself and Jeremy was flying lower than the others. White wings probably the easiest to see to all of them.

“We’re in trouble!” Brooke shouted over the rain and wind.

“No-” Jeremy fumbled again. He was out of breath. “No shit!”

“Land!” Rich yelled, “We can meet up on the ground!”

“But-” Christine was starting to argue. Splitting up was the worst idea. The rain would’ve washed their scent from the air and themselves for the time being. Locating each other would prove to be impossible in a forest.

“I want to do this as much as you do-” Rich interrupted.

“ _I don’t want too!_ ”

“ _Exactly_! But unless we want to crash we have to split! See you on the ground!” Rich had started the descent. Brooke gripped Christine’s wrist and flew just above her as they tried to find a spot on the ground. Jeremy panicked.

  He had tried to turn to find a place to land closer to them. He didn’t want to be alone for very long. He couldn’t handle being alone for very long. The water scrambled his senses and he couldn’t trace them. Couldn’t see them. He couldn’t even see the forest.

  Well, he couldn’t see the forest because their _was_ no forest. He spotted the shape of a house right as he crashed into the big tree in the backyard. His chest colliding with a thick tree branch. Instinctively- Jeremy closed his wings to keep from landing on them. Scrambling to keep hold of the branch when it snapped. He fell comically through the branches like in a children’s movie. Instead in landing comfortably on the drowning grass- he smacked his head on another head branch right before he crashed into the ground. His leg knocking over a birdbath that fell onto a metal bench with a echoing ring. Something he was glad he was lucky enough to not land on.

  Jeremy was conscious for all of two minutes after landing. Laying stomach down on the ground, wings folded, vision covered in black spots. Cold and soaked. The branch he first landed on fell onto his back. Jeremy groaned.

  Then were was a white light coming from somewhere. A sliding door. Jeremy could see the light moving sporadically. Blinds in front of the door pushed back and the light swept across the yard. Jeremy could make out a figure. Shadowed face looking over the grass until the light landed on Jeremy. He could feel when their eyes met, even though he couldn’t see them. They blindly pawed for the door handle, never breaking eye contact. It was open and the figure shouted something jeremy didn’t process as his vision faded and consciousness slipped.

 

  
**The morning headache would not be okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christine and Rich felt slightly ooc to me in this chapter. I don't like it but I didn't have a way around it?? I'm so sorry.
> 
> Anyways, if there are any errors please tell me!!!


	5. He Hoped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a day. Yeah. Quite a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a while to figure out tbh and I'm somewhat not happy with it?What with the big exposition dump at the beginning and moody Michael. Who am I kidding- everyone is gonna be moody for a while. Still, hope you enjoy! <3

  In the first year after Jeremy ran away, Michael Mell was emotionally hurt. Especially in the beginning. That misery doubled in the middle of July that same year when Rich left. Tripled thanks to the double whammy that was Christine and Brooke's disappearance a week later. He didn’t know about the others- but Michael felt sad, angry, and mistrusting. Specifically- mistrusting of any adult that said ‘runaway’ and any of their names in the same sentence.

  Jake, Chloe, and Jenna agreed. All of them were hopeful that it was fake. Their friends _had_ to be kidnapped. Jeremy, Christine, Brooke, and Rich would _never_ run away. They all had a hard-as-nails friendship. They had no reason to leave that behind. They were children. There was no dodge to get out of and no places to go. Michael and Jenna heavily suspected Nancy Heere as the culprit, and were not quiet about it.

  After that first year, the police cleared everything up. Neatly cutting away any loose ends with a jagged knife of bribes and filling plot-holes with vague answers that felt spoon fed. The four were runaways. The four couldn't be found. The four didn't _want_ to be found. ~~The four were never searched for in the first place~~.

Thanks to the verdict- Nancy Heere had all suspicions dropped. Not charges. Suspicions. Name cleared. Like the case never happened and the kids never existed. In a fit of disgust for the four left behind children and the ex-husband that backed them, she packed up her bags and left. Never to be seen by the likes of New Jersey ever again. Just like Christine’s parents right after. Rich's brother followed their example too.

  The first year of hurt was over. Then began the five years of recovery. Badly handled self-recovery. It started with everyone getting over it. At least _saying_ that they did. They ‘got over it’ and in the process, tore out the nails of their friendship. Demoting it to an awkward acquaintanceship and minimal tense conversation. Facing the hard truth that they were left for dirt by people they cared about the most.

  Michael grew up quickly in the second year. Picked up the pieces, slapped on some duct tape, and got a move on with his new single player life. Continued to evolve his love for retro gaming. Found out that he loved photography in the third year. Discovered on the third day of Freshman year that a Sophomore, Connor, sold two weeks worth of pot every third Monday for cheaper than any other day. Found out before the year was over that weed was fun. Promised his mother at the start of Sophomore year that weed would be occasional. He built a new life. Made in-school-only friends that he could talk to. Decent friendships they were. Nothing compared to the half-locked away past. But decent enough.

  In the third year Michael’s tiny, barely existing hope of a lie from the first year was fully buried under a slow boiling hurt and anger. Everyone left and made themselves a shiny new life somewhere new. Leaving the rest, their families, for dead. He was mad about it. But he was also mad about how the parents gave zero shits. And curious of the siblings of Rich and Brooke who either ran away or died.

  But that's not the way Michael wanted his train of thought to go. No, Michael's train of thought liked to switch rails very often when it came to emotionally charged topics. Like Jeremy. It was originally supposed to tell Michael that he ‘made a mistake and here’s why’. Michael had taken the fifth year- officially the sixth once Tuesday hit- with a bit of salt. He forgot Connor only sold weed on Mondays and Wednesdays. He forgot to buy some for Saturday so he'd hit tomorrow sober and unhappy.

  Michael parked the PT Cruiser in the parking lot outside of the school. He really didn’t want to be there today. It was painful to go through and be reminded. Not like anyone actually stepped foot in the place. The four ran off during middle school, only months before sixth grade ended. But it was the three others left behind that hurt to watch. Michael walked into the school with his backpack over his shoulders and headphones blasting Bob Marley. Heading towards his locker to switch out books.

  His former friends were doing much better on the social ladder than he was. Jake was the popular Mr.Cool. Hosting parties and getting the good grades on top of it all. Chloe was probably the only one from the original group who stuck around him. The prettiest girl in the school with pretty good grades in most classes to match. Jenna was the information broker. Had everything on everyone and with one word- could make or break a person’s high school career.

  Michael decided he'd stick to the wall and keep his decent-grades to himself. He slammed his locker shut and turned to go to his first class- math. Whoever thought _math_ as a first period was a good idea was very low on Michael’s ‘good guy’ list. The volume on his headphones was raised to drown out the voices in the slowly crowding hallway. He spotted Jake and Chloe farther down the hallway. Jake leaning on a locker and Chloe putting her weight on one leg with arms crossed. Talking to a different pair of students that Michael couldn’t name.

  He would’ve successfully passed them without incident of Chloe hadn’t tapped him on the shoulder. Michael had turned to face the somewhat tired Chloe looking into his face with naturally intimidating eyes. Jake glanced at her, shook his head, and went back to talking to the rest of their group. Michael pulled his headphones to his neck and turned down the volume as he did. Trying not to let his exhaustion show.

“Hey.” Chloe had that tone people use on old friends. Nervous-casual would be the best way to describe it. Which was perfect to describe their current relationship. _Wow,_ Michael thought, _I’m_ **_definitely_ ** _not bitter._

“Hey.”

“So, I was wondering if you had the English homework?” Michael looked back at her with a forced stoic expression. He never liked letting people copy, even if Chloe normally did her work on her own, he wasn’t the type for exceptions on the homework field. Call him cruel, but he didn’t need his hard work watered-down or spoiled if he was caught.

“No, I don’t.” he lied.

“Bullshit, you always have the homework.”

“Sorry,” Michael adjusted the strap of his backpack, “but I don’t have it today.” He turned and kept walking. Starting to pull up his headphones and skipping the song he was on. Starting a song in the middle was so annoying. He got to his classroom and dropped himself into his seat. Waiting for his least-favourite class to begin and get this day over with.

  His classes were boring. Same stuff over and over. It seemed like years for the clock to drag its hands and let the lunch bell ring. Michael was thankful that he was able to sit outside after an off-campus pick-up for his regular sushi and red slushie. Eating as he blasted good music through headphones, and switching between finishing the weekend history assignment and staring at the grey clouds building overhead.

  During a pause in the track, he heard Jake laughing at a stupid joke. As said before, he was the resident campus ‘coolguy’. Star of the archery team Freshman year. Pretty good distance runner for the track team Sophomore year. Quarterback this year. It was a mystery what he’d do senior year. Not only that but he had clubs galore in his schedule. A regular jack of all trades. Michael paused to snicker at a new discovery on wordplay he just thought of. _No_ , he had thought, _he’s a Jake of all trades._

  Soon enough- Michael was facing the last stretch of school.  Which held his favourite classes. English, Photography three, and ASL. Everything else be damned. It went by in a daze. He remembered the sour face Chloe made from the seat next to him when he passed his finished English homework forward to turn in. He remembered seeing the ASL/Drama teacher Mr.Reyes put up a sign-up sheet for some zombified Midsummer’s Night Dream next to the door. And remembered turning in this week’s photography project.

  Then, before he knew it he was at his locker. Elvis drifting through his head, switching books and slamming the metal door shut when he was done. Walking the near-empty halls while digging in his bag for his lanyard. It was his Pac-Man lanyard. It held his school ID in plastic sheathe, his house key, car keys, tiny laser-pointer/flashlight, and highly important store discount tags. He had it in hand once he reached his car. Not realizing that rain was pelting his patched red hoodie and soaking his clothing.

  He threw his backpack into the usually empty passenger seat and started the car. Planning on going home and changing into drier clothes. His afternoon routine thus began. Drive home, park the car, greet his mother, chores, hightail it to the basement to get homework done, then relax time started.

  When he got home, instead of his mother responding to his usual shout of ‘hello’, he was greeted with silence. Michael wandered into the kitchen and spotted the neon-pink sticky note stuck the fridge. He read it. Apparently his grandmother was sick, and his mother was helping her until she was better. That was a three day car-ride away. Fantastic. Michael went on with his afternoon. Chores, he did homework while making dinner, and took his definitely five-star canned soup downstairs afterwards.  Not caring if the loosely hung door slammed behind him.

  Michael ended up playing Apocalypse of the Damned. Taking few breaks for food or bathroom during the gaming marathon. He kept playing single player until midnight when the storm caused a power surge and restarted the game system. Instead of risking losing another bunch of work by playing again, he switched to watching old crime shows.

  Blindly watching a screen. Draped over a red beanbag, who’s blue twin sat in the corner collecting dust from under a taped box of things Michael would most likely sadly look at later that day. Still bitter about forgetting to get his weed. Saturday wasn’t going to be much fun when he couldn’t watch shit TV and forget about the issues for a while.

  He knew he should’ve been asleep at four in the morning. Really, he did. But he didn’t feel tired. Which wasn’t a good thing considering he slept like shit the previous night. Thunder crashed somewhere outside and the power went out. Leaving Michael in the pitch darkness of the windowless basement. He sighed and walking the memorized route to the stairs. Pulling his lanyard from the backpack left at the bottom and flicking on the flashlight. He was on path to the garage to check the fuse box. Just in case something blew. But as he climbed the stairs there was a muffled _THUNK_ from the backyard.

  Michael quickly finished the climb and walked across the dining room to the sliding glass door. A metallic _thunk_ followed by a heavy _THUD_ caused Michael to quickly pull the plastic blinds back. Sweeping his flashlight through the door and combing over the backyard. Trying to find what made such a ruckus so early on a Saturday.

  Instead of finding an animal like he expected- there lay a human boy in the grass right under the tree. A branch across his back, and something grey and white covering the skin. He couldn’t see much else thanks to the glare from the flashlight on the glass. Ignoring the ‘don’t let strangers into the house’ rule, Michael blindly pawed for the door. Keeping what he hoped was eye-contact as he opened the door and darted out. Those grey-green eyes of the stranger held an amount of confusion and fear that Michael had never seen in another human being. At least- not before that moment.

  The boy shut his eyes as Michael’s bare foot touched drowned grass. He hurried, flashlight stuck between his teeth, as Michael practically threw the branch off the kid and ignored it as it landed omewhere else. Pausing to study the pale boy in front of him. There was a blue tattoo on his left shoulder. The white and grey fluff- no, not fluff, _feathers_ \- covered his back and shoulders. Minus the two long, angry red scars starting from under his shoulder blades and traveling in a narrowing V shape to the small of hi back. A blotchy- pink scar sat on the back of the kid’s neck. Michael did his best to ignore that the kid was shirtless in the first place and concerned himself to wondering why he fell from a _tree_ in a _rainstorm._ He pulled the boy’s arm to go over his shoulder and started to carry him inside.

 _Holy shit this kid’s light_ , thought Michael as he walked across the lawn faster than someone holding a person should’ve. The shorter kid had to weigh at _least_ eighty five. If not only slightly more. Michael got him inside and sloppily attempted (and succeeded) to shut the door with his foot.Without any other place to drag the boy-dripping-lakes-onto-the-floor- Michael opted to navigate him downstairs via piggyback.

  It was better to have the kid soak the bed sheets and not his mother’s furniture. His mother would probably murder him if he even thought about doing that. Thankfully there was a bathroom with a med-kit downstairs too. And it would most likely be a lot more comfortable to wake in a bed instead of a hard couch.

  The teenager was unceremoniously dropped on Michael’s unmade bed. Michael took a few moments to assess the issue. Obviously- the kid was bruised and scratched to hell and back. Nothing was broken and there wasn’t a sign of laboured breathing. Pulse was normal. What worried Michael was how skinny he was. Skinny and lanky. He was probably very hungry too. But Michael was more curious about the feathers and tattoo. And the many small scars that littered the boy’s back, neck, arms, and the ancient burns on the bottom of the kid’s feet.

  People nowadays were into body modification. Weird additions like piercings and Michael even heard a person talk about getting horns. Maybe those ‘feathers’ were fake and the V-shaped scars were simply tattoos. Michael would have to ask when the kid woke up. For now, he simply got to work finding the med kit and working on cleaning the kid's wounds. Maybe even do something about the grime the kid had going on around all of the injuries.

 

    **He hoped the boy would be okay**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter was originally supposed to include their first interaction but that was way too long. But I hope you're all ready for drama next time. As usual- if you find any errors please tell me!


	6. Whatever It Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is angry. Someone is scared. Both are hurt. Things get-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize (again) if someone (*cough*Michael*cough*) is ooc. Right before I posted the last chapter I started writing this one and it's been a trip. A very, very long and complicated trip that's changed five different times b/c how do people act?? I dunno??? I'm kinda happy with it too? Also pretty sure it's the longest chapter so far! (10 pages on google docs!) So enjoy heavy angst and explanations. Also this is unedited!

 Jeremy had opened his eyes for a total of two seconds before groaning and rolling onto his side away from the lights. There was a splitting headache behind his left eye and everything hurt from either sore muscles from flying or dull ache of bruises. Not to mention he could feel a bone-ache creeping up on him. Once he figured all of this out- he registered one thing before the rest of the room. He was laying down.

 Well _obviously_ he was laying down, he’d just woken up. But he felt engulfed by the ground under him, and a light weight was over his shoulders. Surrounding him in whatever comforting material he was being restrained with. The soft material that smelled… like soap. Flowery, home-like laundry soap…

 Jeremy ignored his headache in that second and sat up so fast he gave himself headrush.

 He fell onto his back with a soft _thump._ His stomach hurt. His back hurt. Everything just _hurt_ . It was all a confusing mess. If he had bruises- even if really bad- they’d usually heal up and turn yellow within a couple of hours. And he estimated his time out-cold to be four hours. So he had to _really_ be hurt if he still felt pain. No, now was not a time to think about the healing process. Now was the time to figure out where he was.

 He sat up slower this time and shifted to lean against the headboard behind him. Silently reveling in the fact he was even sitting on a bed in the first place. The room was somewhat dark. Display shelves, tall bookshelves, and a single TV stand jammed with game consoles sat around the room. Posters decorated the walls. Between the bed and the TV stand was a large blue rug. The only decorations on the wall would be the place directly to his left. A small space on the wall _covered_ in photographs. Barely visible in the odd colours lights from lava lamps, or the warm glow from a simple calcite lamp.

 Two bean bags sat on the carpet. One a well-used red and the other a well-neglected blue. The impression of a human being still somewhat visible in the material. Speaking of material- Jeremy put a hand to his chest. There was a large, brown T-shirt over his torso. A familiar icon on the front that Jeremy could barely identify. Mario. Very nostalgic.

 Jeremy stared at the bedspread over his legs. It was decorated with an image of space. He pulled the blanket away to look at his legs. Still covered in the dirty white pants that had the bottoms rolled up to his knees. Making the small bandaids visible. His arms and fingers were decorated with other character bandaids. They were almost unnecessary, the scratches were almost completely healed. He pulled the bottom of the shirt up to poke his gauze wrapped stomach. He hissed.

 Then he remembered the tree. How many branches he made contact with going down. And the one branch nearly crushing his back once he was on the ground. He shivered at the memory. Still, he was well enough to stand and look around. The room felt oddly familiar- in a distant way. Maybe the layout?

 On the far side of the room was a door to a bathroom. Open with the light off. Jeremy walked around on silent feet. Loving the feel of the shag carpet and the odd texture of fake wood floor. It was different in comparison to constant linoleum. He looked over the unknown posters, and read what different movies, books, and games were crammed on the shelves around different lamps or some figurine. The consoles on the stand were a mixture of things Jeremy didn’t know or could barely remember the names of.

 He was about to head over to the staircase near the wall- the main source of light on that half of the room- when he saw the wall of photos again. One Polaroid was on the floor by the bed. Jeremy thought that he could’ve knocked it off- and went to go pick it up. Instead of setting it down on the nearest shelf- he simply stood and studied the subjects in it.

 Eight people dressed for snow. Arms slung over shoulders, standing with arms linked, or one boy being flat out carried piggy-back by an obviously struggling shorter boy. One girl in the background held a large snowball over an unsuspecting boy’s head. Each one grinning or laughing like there wasn’t anything wrong with the world. He brought the photo closer to his eyes as the feeling of familiarity crossed him again.

 Jeremy knew for a fact that there were many things about his past that he’d forgotten. The outside world was replaced with a laboratory- and lack of contact blurred everything else. The small of rain and grass replaced by flowery perfume and bleach. But in those first four years in that _hell_ called a prison cell- Jeremy drilled three things into his head. Even then he knew that time would change those too.

 First- his dad’s laugh. Warm, genuine, and hearty. Full-bellied and loud. It was always comforting, and was something Jeremy wished he could hear at least once more.

 Second- Michael’s hoodie. He always wore a red hoodie. He used to talk about how his mother would let him patch a different one when he hit high school. Michael would always fantasize about what kinds of patches he’d wear. Maybe pac-man, or the flags from his parent’s home countries.

 Third- the seven other faces in his friend group. Three of which he had seen get older and tired. The other four were all up to his imagination. Hopefully happy, and accepting, and not-mad. Last he saw of them they were bright eyed, happy, grinning children who would laugh at anything.

 Those seven faces, including his own, were staring back at him through the photo. He knew that picture. He knew that day. It was the December the year before everyone was taken. Chloe’s birthday was the twenty ninth and they all played in the snow. It didn’t take long to realize where he was- and before he could look around to confirm this there was a loud _SLAM_ from the top of the staircase, followed by a soft ‘oh shit’.

  The noise made Jeremy shriek and jump backwards. Falling hard on his tailbone and groaning at the pain that shot through his spine when gravity pushed him onto his back. Dropping the photograph as he went down. There was a loud thumping coming down the stairs as Jeremy shook his head and sat up. Blinking away stars in time to see a figure at the bottom of the stairs, staring back at him.

 Whatever train of thought Jeremy could’ve had was gone once both of them were stuck staring at the other. Jeremy took in the appearance of the figure. Male, taller and broader shouldered. Looked stronger too. He wore a patched red hoodie. Holding a pac-man patch and a couple of flags. The hoodie was open to reveal a Mega Man t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. Red glasses slipping down his nose and a plastic plate of toast in on hand. The stranger had a worried expression that reminded Jeremy a lot of Christine. He’d take comfort in that fact if he wasn’t slipping into a state of panic.

 Jeremy scrambled backwards and onto his feet. Trying to stutter out at _least_ an apology for the tree as he backed away. All that came out were noises that only vaguely sounded like the words Jeremy couldn't form. The stranger slowly put the plate down on a small table next to the staircase and put his hands up so Jeremy could see.

“Relax, dude. You’re gonna get hurt again,” he said, taking a step forward and holding a hand out.

“I-I-” Jeremy’s words were gone as what he’d seen in the past few minutes were coming together. Allowing him to confidently say that this stranger was far from one. No, the person before him was the one and only- “Michael?” Jeremy said, “Michael Mell?”

 Michael froze in place and stared, wide-eyed. Simply nodding at his name. Jeremy would’ve relaxed if Michael hadn’t visibly been on edge. Very much on edge. “How do you know my name?” Michael more demanded an answer than asked for one.

 Jeremy felt off, holding the bottom of his t-shirt and only then noticed how much his shoulders ached. His wings had been folded for too long. Damn was it uncomfortable. It added to the growing bubble of panic sitting in his chest.

“I- well..” Jeremy slowly walked over to the dropped photograph and picked it up. Being watched closely by Michael. When he showed it to Michael, he furrowed his eyebrows. Clearly suspicious. “This was on the floor and-”

“There aren’t any names on that. How do you know me.” Now his tone was much more forceful, and Jeremy flinched. Rubbing his arm with his free hand, and shifted weight from foot to foot. Pinching the photograph a bit too tightly.

“My name is Jeremiah Heere.”

 Michael’s angry expression mixed with shock. The room was painfully silent. Jeremy kept shuffling his feet under the angry-eyed stare from Michael, trying to keep eye contact and failing multiple times. His expression reminded him of Sebastian when he messed up a test. Or Nancy whenever he said something wrong (which happened to be every time he opened his mouth). Or pretty much anyone in the facility whenever he did _anything._ As a result the air felt heavy around him and he dropped the photo onto the blue beanbag to his left to pick at a tweety bird bandaid on his left ring finger.

“Prove it.”

 Jermey’s attention snapped up from his hands back to Michael. Feeling vulnerable and small at the somehow even angrier brown eyes of an old friend. Jeremy had opened and closed his mouth in a few pathetic attempts to start explaining. Michael raised an eyebrow after he couldn’t say a thing the first two times.

 At least he wasn’t throwing hits or yelling. Which was going better than any scenario Nancy and Sebastian told him as discouragement. Jeremy wondered if anyone had tried to impersonate him in the past. Then he wondered why someone would do that on a run-away case. Still- he knew exactly two stories that could prove he was real. They were somewhat blurry in his head- like water thrown on a piece of paper. But he’d have to deal and use what he could remember.

“When we were young and your parents weren't getting along you'd come to my house. Sneak in through the second floor window and we'd spend all night either talking about it or playing games. In the morning Dad wouldn't talk about it and offer to make breakfast. It was the same thing but I don't remember what. Nancy would wake up and start yelling about intrusion and the importance of privacy and you'd go home later that day."  
  
 Michael stared, almost open jawed. Jeremy moved to the selling story.  
  
"When you were ten you got a pair of roller skates like mine. And when I was teaching you how to use them you tripped because you didn't want to hit a frog. You fell into a ditch and cut your knee on a glass bottle. We didn't tell our parents because you thought it was dumb and the cut scarred over."

 Michael huffed a quick breath from his nose and furrowed his eyebrows. “Fine,” he almost growled, “You’re real.”

 The words would be a relief if Michael’s eyes didn’t get even _more_ angry than before. Instead- he became downright _terrified_. This terror multiplied as Michael crossed the room and straight up decked Jeremy. Much like Rich punching Doctor Sophie earlier that week. Knuckles landing on his left cheek and the force knocked Jeremy sideways onto the bed. He barely caught himself before he sat up and stared at the taller of the two.

 He breathed heavy. Both of them did. One trying to calm him temper and the other trying to _not_ panic. The anger in Michael’s eyes reminded Jeremy of fire. Fire that had nearly gone out under dirt and neglect- but somehow rekindled itself into an inferno. They looked like Rich’s eyes when Jeremy saw him for the first time in four years. Christine and Rich’s eyes when Brooke and Jeremy explained what happened in the cells and why they were let out. Anger without visible target. Those eyes were terrifying enough to send both Jeremy and Brooke into panic attacks on the spot.

“Michael I-”

“Shut up.” Jeremy froze. “What is _wrong_ with you?” Michael hissed, “falling from my tree at four in the morning. After _years_ of being gone that’s the grand hello you come up with? Property damage and injury? Is it even a hello? Or is it a birthday present? You’re eighteen- time to mess with someone I abandoned six years ago. What the actual fuck, dude?”

 Jeremy was inching his way backwards as Michael’s voice rose with each sentence. He could feel himself start to shake. Starting in his fingers and crawling up his arms. It would only grow worse the more stressed he got. “I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what? Didn’t mean to leave us? Hurt us? Well save it. I get that you dropped out at the end of sixth grade- so you might not remember that cause and effect are things that exist. And you’re the cause of so much bullshit that it’s hard keeping track. Because of you- David’s been in this depressed slump until two years ago. People ran away. Someone _died_ looking for them. Everything. _Everything_ fell apart because you up and left.”

 Now that was a shock. Who could’ve died looking of them?

“Please let me explain-”

“Explain what? That you decided to take a bus to fucking- fucking Timbuktu and leave behind some note telling the rest of us to fuck off? Save your breath, Jackass I know the story already.”

“No that’s not the truth,”

“It isn’t? Because that’s really hard to believe with all this evidence stacked against whatever lie you’re cooking up.”

 The truth was something Jeremy thought about a lot. He was positive it was true, even if it was only half of the full story. He- no, all four of them- had this information on repeat. Knowing it wasn’t the problem. The problem was _telling_ it. Saying it out loud again meant solidifying a lot of things that they were raised thinking opposite. But right now Jeremy had to get over it if he ever wanted a chance at getting back at his friend’s side. Jeremy, with back against the wall and hands gripping the comforter, opened his mouth to speak. Words didn’t come out. Michael scoffed.

“I knew it. You don’t even have a lie to tell me. Just-” Michael took a step back and put a hand to his temples, “just get the fuck out of here.”

“... Michael.” _God_ his voice was so weak.

“I said get out!”

“ **No!** ”

“ _E_ _xcuse me_?” Michael nearly growled. Jeremy was taken aback by both Michael’s tone and his own outburst. He wasn’t one to defy order- except during Upgrades. He knew consequences to not doing as told. It took a moment before he realized Michael was waiting for an answer.

“I-I said no. I’m not going to leave. Not again.”

“You did it once. Why not now?” Michael’s words were pointed. And if words could kill- Jeremy would be dead three times over.

“Because I didn’t have a choice back then. There’s this whole story- the truth. It’s just… it’s _really_ hard to say it. But I promise that none of us- not me, or Rich, or _anyone_ wanted to leave you all. And we regret ever disappearing in the first place and not trying harder to come back and… there is so much that we regret not doing… or actually doing. I’m so _so sorry_ that I hurt you.”

“ _Hurt me_?” Michael’s voice cracked. There was pain mixing with his anger and it was clear on his face. “By leaving you made me feel like I’m not good enough to be your friend. Well I _am_ good enough. Better than enough. So I have a question for you. What could possibly possess you to leave behind not only your _best friend_ , but both of your _parents_ too?”

 Jeremy was quiet for a moment as he studied the other’s face. “Nancy.” Michael scoffed and crossed his arms. “I-I mean it! Nancy did it!”

“Your mother did it? No way. She was cleared of involvement years ago.”

“I’m not lying, she did it! She's nothing like she was growing up. She's mean and cruel and tricky and just the second worst person _ever_.”

 Michael’s glare didn't lighten up, even after he rolled his eyes. Jeremy wondered what was going through his head.

 

\---

 

 This had to be bullshit. It simply had to be. Jeremy could've changed so much these past few years. His hair was slightly longer than before and a mass of unbrushed curls. More freckles than ever before. The tattoo. The feathers. Yeah, he definitely changed. Who's to say that he didn't take acting classes on top of getting body mods? Now he was putting on a performance to wiggle himself back into Michael’s life. His decent, content-on-his-own life. That's why he kept his expression angry. Determined to not let _anything_ change that.

 It was starting to get hard, though. Jeremy had slid across the bed and pressed against the wall. Staring with wide eyes like Michael was going to attack again. (Something Michael wasn't actually _expecting_ himself to do, it was more of a spur-of-the-moment decision.) But Jeremy looked genuinely guilty and… afraid.

 But that didn’t mean he was telling the truth. Jeremy had disliked his mother since she left David when he was eight. Even more so when Jeremy told him about her once she was out of the house. She was a strict woman. Could write a dictionary sized rule book for her household, didn’t like things not going her way, and was very good at guilt tripping David. Despite all of that she could have her nice moments. Jeremy could easily exaggerate all of it and put another target on Nancy’s back. Michael couldn’t deny that he was interested to see what she’d be accused of.

“I need the truth. Now.”

 Jeremy immediately nodded and took a few deep breaths, shutting his eyes to focus. Was- was this kid _shaking?_  What kind of acting classes did he _take?_ He was good. Jeremy shook his head and looked back into Michael’s eyes.

“Nancy kidnapped is. A-All four of us, and forged runaway notes to get away with it. Or she had someone forge them- or- _someone_ wrote them. She needed us to be gone so she could cover up this- this _stupid_ plan she and Sebastian started _years_ ago. Before we even met. Before I even knew you.” Jeremy’s breathing was shaky and he tripped over words. Like he was struggling to say anything at all.

“We…” A deep breath, “we were experiments. From the beginning. When most of us were around two we were put into this… _project_. Everyone’s parents pretty much sold them into it. The company put this… this stuff in our blood and just waited to see what would happen. And each month their parents would get paid. The only difference between them and me is that Nancy works for them.”

 Michael stared. Could this even be lied about? Parents selling their children? It seemed almost too idiotic to be the truth, and Michael was about to say so when Jeremy interrupted.

“I know it sounds fake! If I wasn’t apart of it I would think so too, but it’s all true. The stuff- serum, I think- gave us wings. A-And did all this stuff to our bodies and genetics and… and it fucked us up. It had a certain amount of time to work before it couldn’t have any effect. And we were the unlucky few that actually had it _work_ on our systems instead of killing us an-and when it reacted they took us. One by one. So the world wouldn’t know. Rich got taken after his twelfth birthday. Same with Brooke, Christine, and me. And when they did, they took us to this facility. Underground laboratory thing in Michigan. So _so_ far underground. We’ve been there this _entire_ time as like- lab rats. Prisoners. And we only got out like five days ago.”

 That was the most Jeremy had said without stuttering or trailing off. His expression was a mixture of so many things that it was unreadable. But something was there that made it painfully obvious that Jeremy wasn’t making it up. But it sounded so _absurd._  Wings? On a _human being_? That was something straight up from a science fiction novel. Impossible in the real world. Michael refused to believe it.

 Then again… if that serum really _did_ mess with his body- then it could be an explanation for his weight. And the feathers on his back. Maybe even those scars. Michael barked a short, bitter laugh and shook his head. This was insane. He couldn’t be falling for that shit.

“Sorry to break it to you, but you don’t have wings,” Michael said, “your story doesn’t add up.”

 Jeremy leaned forward quickly, supporting himself on his arms. Eyes pleading. “I can show you! I do have wings! I’m not lying!”

“Then prove it.”

 Jeremy was obviously hesitant, but still moved off the bed to stand beside Michael. Looking around for a specific place to stand. Jeremy ended up just in front of the TV, facing Michael. He pulled off the t-shirt and held it in one hand. Pulling at the gauze with the other until it, too, was bunched with the shirt. The bandages were originally there to keep Jeremy from moving around and hurting the bruise on both his stomach and back. A bruise that currently looked halfway healed compared to the black and purple mess it was hours prior.

 Michael stared with a raised eyebrow and still-crossed arms. Allowing his previous anger to calm just enough to not cloud his judgement. All of his emotion was replaced with pure shock as he watched two large, white and brown wings unfold from Jeremy’s back and stretch outwards. They stretched completely for a few short seconds before they closed neatly at Jeremy’s back, the ends of the longest feathers half-resting on the ground behind him.

 Michael stepped back and fell on the bed. Unable to take his eyes off the feathers for a few silent minutes before he made eye contact with the owner. Jeremy stared back awkwardly. Fidgeting with the Tweety bandaid again and shifting his weight repeatedly. Visibly nervous.

 All the words in the world had left his mind to knot themselves in his throat. Leaving him to open and shut his mouth like a fish trying to breathe air. Wings. _Wings_. **_WINGS_**. This- there were so many thoughts and no words running in Michael’s head that he barely understood himself when he ended up breaking the long silence.

“Oh my god…” he muttered. “Are those…?”

“Real?” Yeah… I said I wouldn’t lie.” Jeremy chuckled nervously and shrugged his shoulders. Not making eye contact.

 Michael leaned forward, put his elbow on his knees, bridged his fingers, and pressed the side of his hands to his mouth. Thinking over every single theory he made as a kid about the truth. He used to think he thought of every possibility. The truth was _nothing_ close to even his most outrageous thought. Even _that_ was nothing this sci-fi and fucked up. He ended up chuckling, which grew into some strange laughter that had Jeremy stunned. When Michael wheezed after a solid minute of laughing, he realized his eyes were wet.

“In all the years I spent wondering what the fuck happened to you, I never expected this,” Michael started, dropping his hands from his face. “If I hadn’t just woken up I’d say this was a dream.” he paused, “unless this is Inception.” The joke went unappreciated. Michael let out a dry half-hearted sob, ran a hand through his hair, and put on a worn-out smile. Looking at Jeremy who didn’t even crack a smile of his own. “I… I don’t know what to do.”

 Jeremy looked around, eyes landing on the plate of cold toast. “Y-you can eat your breakfast?” Michael rubbed his eyes and stood up with an audible intake of air. He crossed the room and picked up the plate. Looking down the cold, soggy toast with a small frown. He knew he used too much butter.

“It was more of a between lunch and dinner snack, it is half-past two after all” he admitted. He saw Jeremy’s hand go to his stomach as a low growl came from his direction. “Are you hungry?”

 Jeremy tried to shrug nonchalantly, and said with the tone of a person who had eaten an hour ago, “I-I mean I _could_ eat.” Michael, having completely abandoned his earlier anger, faced the long-lost best friend with a serious face an important mission.

“Jeremiah.” The other flinched at his full name. “Are. You. Hungry.” Jeremy looked at the ground before muttering a defeated ‘yeah’.

 Michael hopped into good-host mode and moved to grab Jeremy’s wrist. Ignoring how thin it was to listen to the other yelp as Michael drug him up the stairs and to the kitchen. Leaving the cold toast on the kitchen counter and sitting Jeremy down on a stool beside the kitchen island. Walking around to stand on the other side and face the winged teen.

“What do you want.”

 Jeremy was silent for a moment and stared at Michael with an expression he felt he’d get a lot in the future. Surprise. A specific surprise that meant he hadn’t been asked that question in a long time.

“I don’t know? F-food?”

“Mac n’ cheese it is then.”

 As Michael got to work pulling out a pot and a box of Kraft Mac n’ cheese, he caught glances of Jeremy from the corner of his eye. Half to make sure he was still there, and half to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Jeremy was leaning on the counter while looking around. Circling a finger absentmindedly over the counter top. Looking like he was sitting in the middle of some gorgeous landscape instead of a standard kitchen.

  Michael stood next to the stove to wait for water to boil. Once the water even slightly hinted at showing bubbles- the house phone rang loudly from its port on the counter. Jeremy jumped at the noise and covered an ear with one hand. Staring in the direction of the noise like a deer in a headlight. Michael calmly walked over and picked it up, answering with a casual “hello?”

“Michael? It’s Jenna. There’s something important I need to tell you.”

  Michael looked back at Jeremy and simply said, “Fuckin' same.”

  
  
   **Whatever it was, maybe it would turn out okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a whore for a character's tiny details during scenes. Sue me. If there's any errors PLEASE tell me. Typos are my enemy and I just don't see them sometimes because they're sneaky.


	7. Rich was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is frustrated. Someone is nervous. Someone is neutral. A story gets told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems these things keep getting longer every time. Hm. By now we all know I'm gonna apologize for anyone being ooc (I'm gonna keep doing it, too). There's tons of emotional characters here rn and just- wow. Again, not very happy with the chapter but I saw literally no other way for these kids to deal with this. Anyways, enjoy!!

 Jake Dillinger had no idea what to do.

 It was six thirty in the morning, the sun was just barely up, the party from last night was long since over, and he stood in the messy aftermath. Not as badly hungover as _some_ people, but it was still too early for this shit. He stood there staring out the open back door at the knocked over barbeque. Looking from the busted metal, the burnt briquettes scattered on the ground, the tiny feathers mixed in with everything, and the winged teenaged boy uncomfortably draped over most of the chaos.

 He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t calling the cops. Maybe it was because he was exhausted. Or that the stranger had _actual wings._ Or that Jake was still a minor and was obviously hungover.  Or the large amount of empty alcohol containers inside. OR that his parents have been on the run for laundering money since his Sophomore year. Either way, the cops were a no-go.

 He truly didn’t know how to handle this. Was there a WikiHow? A phone line? Something he could just call up and say ‘hey I found this passed out cryptid kid in my backyard, what do I do?’ Was this kid even a cryptid to begin with? Jake decided to get the guy inside and then get Chloe from upstairs.

 When he went to pick the guy up- Jake found that he was alarmingly lighter than he looked. But he still managed to get the boy inside, clear off space on the couch, and set him down. Taking a few moments to see who he was.

 Short, five foot five at the most. Board shouldered, blond haired. He had faded freckles on the tops of his cheeks and spotted down his neck. Arms and legs visibly burned like the tops of his shoulders. A tattoo in blue in on his arm was simply the number 548.  

 Jake remembered that he was supposed to get Chloe. He left, quickly picking up abandoned plastic cups, paper plates, and liquor bottles then at had been abandoned on his way out. Dumping them in a trash bin before trekking up the stairs. Wondering all the while about the amount of burn scars covering the kid’s arms and legs. He stopped by the bathroom to pick himself up a pair of ibuprofen before facing his ex-turned-friend.

 Chloe had gotten ‘can’t even speak jibberish’ drunk the night before. So to keep her from trying to drive home (most likely meeting a phone pole if she did) or leaving her for someone else to find- Jake put her in his parent’s bed to sleep everything off. Like a decent person.

 Jake knocked on the door and opened it when he heard Chloe groan loudly. He walked in to find the room nearly dark and Chloe buried under the far side of the comforter. He walked farther into the room and unceremoniously sat himself on the empty side of the bed. She tried to kick him off, mumbling about sleep from under the blanket.

“So I found a guy on the porch.”

“Send him home, Jake.” Chloe groaned again.

“He was laying on the grill.”

“Fun,” she was heavily bitter.

“Knocked it over.”

“Sue him for property damage.”

“He has wings.”

“The fuck?” Chloe took the blanket off her head and stared at Jake with raised eyebrows. “Is it a costume?”

“Nope,” said Jake, popping the ‘P’ loudly. He then thought about how riveting the conversation was. “Help me clean up?”

“Get me four ibuprofen and some water and I’ll consider it.”

“Deal.” Jake got up, strolled into his parent’s bathroom and came back with the exact things Chloe needed. She downed the four pills easily and then slid out of bed. Dressed in what she wore to the party. Jeans and a nice shirt.

 She followed Jake- who was comfortable in a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a t-shirt downstairs. There was obvious shock on her face and Jake nearly laughed. Chloe pushed past it to help clean the disaster a group of highschoolers left in Jake’s house.

“Who do you think he is?” Chloe asked while walking into the kitchen. Jake was currently dropping any throw-away-able object into a trash bag and pushed aside recyclables to the breakfast table in the corner. Chloe dumped the trash in her hands into the open bag and put a hand to her hip.

“No clue.” Jake raised both eyebrows back at Chloe while she raised one. Jake was confused about him, yeah, and Chloe definitely was, but there was a sudden instinct to have the house clean before the guy woke up. And the house _was_ pretty gross after everyone went home. Jake normally waited until Chloe left to clean so he could blast some decent music as he cleaned. Either way- between the two of them the house was clean in a few hours and the bags of trash and recycling were sorted and on the curb. 

 They had the place mostly spotless, except for only some of the floor under the boy’s couch. The rest had been swept and the small rug in the living room had been snuck outside and shaken out. They couldn’t use a vacuum, it’d be too much noise and something told both of them that they wouldn’t want to suddenly wake the stranger. Chloe had put disinfectant and band-aids on all the cuts she could reach without flipping the boy off his side. They had also popped open as many windows as possible, thankful it was still decently cool outside. Jake sprayed at least one container of frebreze to get the weed smell out of the house.

 By one o’clock- Jake and Chloe were sitting on the empty loveseat. Staring at the sleeping boy with the brown wings. Chloe took her phone out and planned to take a picture when Jake stopped her.

“Don’t,” he said softly, glancing at the boy.

“Why not?” Chloe answered with an annoyed sigh. Putting down her phone and moving to fix her ponytail.

“We don’t know what he is yet. What if someone dangerous is looking for him?”

“Someone dangerous? Seriously? You watch too many movies.”

“I _am_ serious. He looks like some sort of sci-fi movie experiment. Did you see the numbers on his arm? He had to escape from _something_ to get here. We don’t want to post any pictures in case that something can hurt us too.”

“Damn you and being surprisingly right about things.”

 Jake let a smug smile cross his face as he crossed his legs. “It’s what I do, babe.”

“We’re not dating. Don’t call me babe.” Chloe got up and walked across the room to the kitchen. “I’m getting a soda. Want anything?”

“Water?”

 Jake got a simple hum in reply as Chloe disappeared. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and sat back to scroll through Facebook casually. Instead his mind wandered.

 ‘What if’s’ swam in his thoughts. What if that boy was some complex robot? What if it was a secret military weapon? What if it was rebelling from its creators and trying to take over the world with even more advanced winged robots? What if those robots also passed out in someone’s house? What if he couldn’t warn the human race of the inevitable tech take over? What if Jake watched too many sci-fi movies? What if this kid was Rich?

 The last one made him pause. Where’d _that_ come from? He didn’t pay the past much mind anymore, let alone thought of _their_ names. He once comforted Chloe on Brooke’s birthday when they were dating, but even then it was only once. She said she got over it and didn’t mention her. At least, she _said_ that she got over it. Jake, who normally avoided thinking about them like the plague, found himself doing just that.

 Rich ran away. Ran far, far away like Jeremy did. Brooke and Christine followed after. And that hurt for a bit. He was angry at first, directed right at everyone who said runaway. Wholeheartedly believed that it was a hoax, just like Jenna and Michael. They were kidnapped and taken away by force. Evidence never came up and that was that. The group fell apart and Jake was alone.

 He found distractions in sports, classes, and trying (and succeeding) to be cool. Anything. His parents worked him through it until he came to terms and accepted his lifestyle as better without them. They were supportive and helpful. Until _they_ ran away too. Leaving him with a goodbye note, a literal pile of cash (which he threw in the safe), and an empty house.

If he ever saw Rich again, he would have no idea what to feel or do. Even thinking about them brought nothing. Just facts and history. Maybe time made him neutral in the whole idea, which honestly was a surprise. He expected he’d act like Chloe. Chloe who was flat out _pissed_.

“Catch.” Chloe chucked a cold water bottle across the room. Jake, now suddenly snapped from his thoughts, failed to catch it and the bottle bounced off his arm. It hit the ground with a _thwap_ and rolled under the occupied couch.

 Chloe had walked back into the kitchen while laughing, probably to get her soda. Jake groaned and went to chase the runaway drink.

 He was kneeling on the floor, looking underneath the couch while holding an unfolded wing up with his forearm, when he heard the low groan. The wing moved of its own accord as the owner adjusted on the couch. Rolling onto his stomach, crossing his arms under the throw pillow, and burying his face in it. Jake sat back on his legs and just looked at the stranger next to him. The boy groaned again and moved his face to the side. Staring down at Jake with exhausted blue-grey eyes that lazily blinked awake.

 There was a momentary silence before the tiredness in his eyes was replaced by an unreadable panic. Before Jake could even think to block it- there was a fist in his vision and he was on his back. Holding his right eye with one hand after a rather unattractive yelp. The stranger was on him in seconds. Pinning down Jake’s hands and looking at him with more anger than Jake’s ever seen in a human being. His wings were half-folded and the feathers bristled. Like he was trying to seem bigger than he really was.

“Who are you!?” he yelled. Jake heard Chloe gasp and run into the room. He looked up the same time the stranger did. Staring at her as she stood in the open doorway connecting the kitchen and living room. Chloe was looking between the two boys in surprise. Jake tried to push the smaller off- but found he couldn’t. The guy was much stronger than he appeared, despite being lighter.

“Who. Are. You.” The stranger hissed, looking back down at Jake. His heads snapped back to Chloe when she took a step forward. “Don’t move! Answer!”

“Jake Dillinger!” Jake shouted, noting the boy’s flinch at the volume. “That’s Chloe Valentine. We’re not going to hurt you so if you could just calm down we-”

“I’ve heard that one before,” the stranger near growled. The anger in his eyes had softened, however. Soon replaced by something else completely. He and Jake shared eye contact, the former swept up in some thought.

 A thought then lost as Chloe quickly walked up and kicked the boy in the crevice between his neck and shoulder. He fell back with a short curse and Chloe was standing over him. A foot on his chest, pressing down. Wings pinned awkwardly beneath his back. He squirmed and gripped Chloe’s ankle to try and move it. She wasn’t budging.

“Now who are you, _bird boy._ ” Chloe had her hands on her hips and a scowl on her lips. Jake sat up and held his hand over his eye. It was surely bruise and stick around for at _least_ a week. Wouldn’t that be fun to explain at school.

“Rich-” the stranger… gasped? Jake knew Chloe could kick- but knock the air out of someone from that? Maybe she was pressing on his lungs or this had something to do with his wings. Either way it didn’t stop him from speaking. “Richard Goranski.”

 The room froze.

 Jake took half a second to wonder if he was psychic. Chloe didn’t lighten up her foot, instead she pressed harder. Rich was still trying to pull her foot off his chest.

“You’re lying,” Chloe hissed.

“I’m not! Honest! My name really is Richard Goranski!”

“Prove it,” Jake said, crossing his legs and rubbing his palm over his cheekbone. Yeah, it hurt. He could just barely see Rich glance his way. Something in his eyes. Jake couldn’t pin it but it felt like raw emotion. More than he’d seen another person show. It made him seem more… real.

“My father’s name is Martin Goranski. My mother was Annabeth Canonic before she married. My brother is Roger Keith Goranski. He’s three years older and has a star shaped birthmark on his elbow.”

“That’s basic information. Try again.” Chloe’s tone was dangerously angry. Jake was still calm, and was going to ask Chloe to let the boy stand when he continued.

“We were friends. We hung out at Jeremy’s place all the time because it could hold more people. Everything was fine until Jeremy was taken, and everyone thought Nancy did it. And she did!” Jake’s eyebrows rose. Chloe had a disbelieving expression and Rich caught it. “Christine made bracelets too! Blue and white with these little letter beads that said squid. I-It was an inside joke. I don’t remember where it came from- the aquarium maybe- but it was pretty funny at the time. She made them for us and gave them out during lunch.”

   That was classified. The group told no one else about those jokes- and not a single person who asked about them got an answer. Jake’s was buried in a box somewhere when it got too small. Chloe’s was shoved in the back of her jewelry box.

“Mine got cut off and thrown away by Sebastian- same with Christine’s and Jeremy’s and Brooke’s. They were too personal and _they_ needed us bland so no one would question the morality. Please- you have to believe that I’m Rich. I’m not a fake.”

“And why should we?”

“Because…” Jake was standing up and could completely see how quickly Rich’s angry face had now been replaced by something sadder and almost pleading. “Because you guys are all we have out here that _aren’t_ going to betray us. A-And we’ve been trying to get back here and-”

“Then why didn’t you!?” Chloe shouted. Rich and Jake flinched. “You left. You broke up a perfectly good and solid friend group because you wanted a better life. But please, _Richard_  tell me what makes you think you can waltz back in here and think we can be friends again? Hm? We’ve all accepted that you hate us, you can’t come back and tell us otherwise for no reason. Why should we give you the right to come back and hurt us all over again?”

“Hate… Who said we hated you?”

“YOU. YOU and your _FUCKING_ note.You outright said you hated everyone and needed to get as far away from us as possible if you ever wanted to actually do more than survive in this city.” Rich looked almost fearful at Chloe as her volume stayed at shouting. He looked like he was about to start panicking.

“Chloe stop-”

“No, Jake. So how everything work out for you, Rich? Huh?!”

“Chloe,”  

“You went out and grew up and got these weird ass body mods and tattoo. Are they robotic? Did they leave those scars?”

“ _Chloe_ ”

“Are you proud to waste your money on those- those _things_ ? They aren't cool. In fact that make you look like a _freak._ ”

“CHLOE.”

“WHAT!?”

“You need to stop. Look at him- he's gonna flip if you keep yelling in his face!”

“Shut up, Jake. Like he doesn’t deserve a good yelling at. He’s obviously lived some privileged life to get shit like this.” Chloe gestured to his wings. Which were moving as Rich was still trying to get Chloe off of him.

“We don’t know anything about what he’s been through. We don’t even know if those _are_ body mods. Get off him and let him breathe and we’ll sort it all out.”

“Aren’t you mad at him?” Chloe seethed, but took her foot off Rich’s chest. Stomping it on the ground instead. Rich immediately sat up and scuffled backwards. Putting a hand over where her foot once was and keeping an eye on her. He _definitely_ looked panicked by the yelling.

“Kinda? I’m more worried about getting him to calm down and tell us what happened than being angry.”

 Chloe huffed and crossed her arms. Looking away from both of the boys to glare at the wall. Jake walked over to Rich and kneeled next to him.

“You good?” he asked. Rich narrowed his eyes but nodded, breathing normally now.

“Considering your girlfriend over there pinned my wings to the floor- yeah. I’m doing _great._ ”

“She’s not my- ugh. Are you hungry at all?” Rich raised his eyebrows, attempting to seem suspicious at the topic change. But his eyes betrayed him and Jake smiled. “I can make a late lunch or whatever before we figure out what to do, come on.” Jake stood up and offered a hand down to Rich. Who quietly refused and stood on his own. Jake turned to Chloe after gesturing to Rich where the kitchen was. “I know you’re hungry too, Chlo. Come eat.”

 Chloe shot him a look but passed him to the kitchen. Jake followed. Chloe swiped her opened soda off the counter and went to sit at the table in the corner. Rich slowly did the same, turning a chair sideways to comfortably sit. Head turned to watch Jake moved around the kitchen.

“Are scrambled eggs alright?”

“I thought you said late lunch,” Chloe said bitterly. Staring out the window.

“I said ‘late lunch or whatever’. Eggs count as whatever,” Jake answered without missing a beat. He was doing his best to get rid of the tense air that settled between all of them. “So, one or two, Chlo?”

“... Two.”

“What about you, Rich?”

“Same?”

“On it.” Jake pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge and went to work looking for a pan. When he turned the stove on, he noticed Rich flinch. That caught his attention, it was only a gas stove. How could it scare him? “So Rich, how long have you been back in town?”

 Chloe drummed her nails across the table before Rich answered. “Well- maybe… twenty minutes before I crashed into your backyard? I don’t know when that was, no watch and all.” Rich gestured to his bare wrists.

“Crashed?”

“Well- yeah. We were flying and didn’t see the rainstorm. But we were idiots and kept going even though we know full well we can’t fly with our wings wet. So once everyone- including myself- were close to falling from the sky, we separated. I crashed into your grill.”

“Our?” Chloe asked the question this time. Now intrigued.

“Yeah. What, do you think I’m gonna get out of that Hellhole alone? I was with Christine, Brooke, and Jeremy.”

“And you were… flying.” Chloe was sounding somewhat disbelieving but also convinced of something.

“Of course. These wings ain’t fake, Chloe. Northern Spotted owl.” Rich was smirking. As if he was proud to have the things on his back.

 Jake paused and looked over. “They’re not fake? How do you have them, then?”

 Rich’s smirk visibly melted into an expression that could only be read as ‘I knew I’d have to say it eventually but I _really_ don’t want too’. “That’s… that’s not a very PG tale.”

“What? Was your mom secretly a bird mutant and you’ve kept secret these massive bird wings from the rest of us?” Chloe said sarcastically, adding her own smirk as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Rich snorted.

“I wish.” Chloe’s smirk faltered. “If that was the case it’d be five times easier to have these things. Maybe we wouldn’t’ve disappeared. But no. The truth is much worse than mutant fucking.”

“Rich, can you explain?” Jake went back to cooking but kept glancing over at the worried boy.

“I can when you’re not around open flame?”

“Fair enough.” The room got quiet. The sound of clicking caught Jake’s attention next. Chloe was texting on her phone. “Who’re you texting?”

“Anne gave me Jenna’s number in case I had any dirt on Elizabeth. So I’m using it to tell her we have Rich.”

“Ah. Is that a good idea?”

“What, afraid the government’s gonna find out?” a beat of silence, “Jeez take a joke. She was in the group too, and she might be able to help with this whole-” she rolled her hand in Rich’s direction, “thing. And i’m leaving out the wing thing.”

A couple of quick minutes later Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Rich asked this time.

“Jenna has Brooke and Christine.”

“WHAT?” Rich said suddenly standing up with his hands on the table. “Are they alright? Is anyone hurt? Is Brooke okay? Was she left alone? Did anyone freak out? What about Jeremy? Do they know where he is? Is _he_ by himself?”

“Slow down, I can’t understand you.” Chloe typed something out and then got up to grab the plates Jake was holding out. The phone dinged as she sat back down- sliding a plate and fork over to Rich, who was nearly bouncing in his chair like an excited child. “Jenna said they’re alright and still sleeping. But Christine did get a scratch down her arm and they don't know where Jeremy is."

“Still sleeping?” Jake asked, working on making the final plate of food, “it’s almost two thirty.”

 Chloe shrugged as noticed Rich was quick to pick up the fork. “Have you not eaten eggs in a while?”

“I haven’t had eggs in years.” Rich shrugged and stabbed only one bit as Chloe watched him. “Though what was available was absolutely _disgusting._  It was like- half cooked instant mashed potatoes in water, this oatmeal that looked like paste or whatever, and this shitty blue ‘yoghurt’.” Rich did air quotes around the word yoghurt. "Sometimes we'd even get these bread rolls that tasted and kinda felt like cardboard."

“That _sounds_ disgusting.”

“It was. But if you didn’t eat it then there would literally be nothing else. It all they had for us, so it was more like 'eat it or starve'. If you didn't eat and messed something up, then you'd get in trouble for it.”

“Dude, you’re speaking weird. Who’s this ‘they’ and what was that ‘Hellhole’ you mentioned earlier?” Jake raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll tell you when you sit down.” Rich repeated, then took his first bite of food.

 Jake wished he caught it on camera.

 

\---

 

 Rich was absolutely _ecstatic_. A smile breaking on his face as he still bit down on the fork. Chloe covered her mouth her hand to hide her obvious laughter, turning away and smiling. Then she went back to her phone to type something out. Rich ignored the laugh and went for another bite. Visibly restraining himself so he wouldn’t wolf down the entire plate then and there.

 But _damn_ was it good.

 It didn’t take much longer for Jake to shut the stove off with a soft _click_ and walk over with his own food. Chloe pushed her phone aside and put her elbows on the table as Jake sat down. Both clearly waiting for the delayed explanation. Rich took a deep breath as his previous giddiness disappeared.

 Rich _hated_ the information. He hated talking about it, hated how he got it, hated seeing Brooke and Jeremy’s faces when he told them, hated Christine’s expression when he told her only one day before. He just simply hated it. But all he had to do right now was paraphrase exactly what Sebastian had told him two years ago in the Medward. Half of the whole truth that he’d never get and didn’t want to know.

“So… I’ll start from the beginning. Basically, this guy named Sebastian-”

“He’s the one you said cut the bracelet off, right?” Chloe asked. Rich nodded and continued.

“-Runs this company. This company has this project thing- though I don’t know the name of either. They're pretty good at secrets. They have this lab up in Michigan. Underground, super secret. But he made this _stuff_. He called it serum or whatever. But he needed subjects to test it on. So he and Nancy waltzed up to our parents while we were _two years old_ and pretty much said ‘let us use your two year old children as test subjects for this experimental serum and we’ll pay you every month until they either die a horrific death, the serum works, or it doesn’t work before the expiration date’. Our parents said ‘heck yeah!’ and there you go. Four lab rats. I think Brooke’s sister was admitted into the project too. Caught a glimpse of her file once during a scuffle when I was fourteen.”

 Rich tipped back in his chair for a moment to think. He was trying to tell the story with as much casualness as he could muster. He didn’t want to sit there, sad and pitiful, retelling a rather unfavourable past. At the mention of Brooke's sister- Chloe paled. “Jeremy was volunteered for the project by his mom. Without David knowing, naturally.” Rich huffed a bitter laugh, “I mean, why tell the father of her only son that at any second- Jeremy could suddenly drop dead or randomly sprout wings from then on until he was twelve? I’ll tell you why, she’s a lying snake of a woman who smells like she bathes in fucking fake flower perfume.”

  He accidentally let his bitter side loose and quickly tried to cover it up when he spotted Jake and Chloe’s worried expressions. He faked a cough into his fist and stopped tipping the chair.

“ _Nancy Heere_ works for this company?” Chloe asked in the same voice she used to gossip.

“Fuck yeah she does. How do you think she and David could afford to have _that_ much fancy furniture in that old-ass house? She has a hella big pay check because she pretty much runs the company with Sebastian the Slime Ball.”

 Silence.

“Anyways. Years go past without incident, blah blah you guys were there for most of that time so you know what happened. But- I’m sure you know this but Jeremy’s the oldest and so he got the shot first. So naturally it reacted first. And I heard these stories from everyone, so it’s straight from the horses’ mouth, but Jeremy was at his mom’s house when it happened. Like- the Sunday after, and Jere’s birthday was on Friday that year so it was an entire weekend without us. But that Sunday,  _right_ after Jeremy put his stuff away and was going to call David to get him- the serum reacted. And let me tell you this stuff isn’t just a simple ' _b_ _oop',_ ” Rich made a popping gesture with his hands, “and you got wings. It’s this whole process or some shit with the bones or something. Never got explained. But it lasts for _hours._ Either way Nancy called Sebastian up and then Jeremy was out the door, thrown in a van, and driven up to be locked away forever within two hours of it starting.”

 Jake looked at him in horror and Chloe put a hand over her mouth. It was obvious they never expected _this_ to be why their friends were gone.

“I had a slightly different experience. It kicked in a few weeks after when I got back from that hangout at Brooke’s place. Roger was trying to figure out what was up, and my Dad just got _really_ mad at Roger. But _something_ happened and this vase was broken and then I, too, was dragged away into the black van of doom.”

“What the fuck,” Chloe whispered under her breath.

“Christine and Brooke got taken right after Christine’s birthday. When neither of them had reacted yet. Brooke heard Sebastian say something about risks or whatever. But it was middle of the night with absolutely _no objection_ from their parents. And they must've knocked out Christine’s Grandmother and Brooke’s sister or something because they didn’t get up. I feel bad for them. Waking up to find your family gone without a trace of a struggle- or to be taken _from_ you family and not have anyone do anything. Just.. damn.”

 Rich poked at the cold eggs on the plate. He didn’t want to eat and talk at the same time. His internal clock was yelling at him ‘five minutes to finish eating before testing!’ even though it was stupid. He could safely tell it to fuck off, but found it harder to ignore the more he tried. He hated it.

“ _Anyways_ ,” Rich said again. Slower this time, feeling a more worried look on his face as he finished up the story. “We were taken and locked away in that laboratory I mentioned. Six years as lab rats. Christine and I were thrown into what we call the Centre all that time. We wouldn’t see Brooke and Jeremy until about… four years into the project? Some fucked up sub-experiment that _really_ should’ve been shut down sooner. Either way, testing, testing, yada yada, dogs, tests, a bunch of shit happened. All I can safely say about the place is that it was hell and we were treated more like guinea pigs rather than people.” Rich idly popped his wrist. He ignored the looks he was still getting to tip his chair again and look at the ceiling.

“There was this guy named Gerard and he used to give us candy when we went through bad tests. Entire bags if it was bad enough. But he slipped key cards into these two candy bags he gave me and Jeremy on… I think it was the first… we don’t know why he did it. He might’ve been sick of the place, or it was because Jeremy’s eighteenth was in a few days. But we waited until everyone thought we were asleep, fought our way out, and flew until we hit that rainstorm. And ta-da. We’re here now. And that, kids, is the story of where we’ve been, and why.”

 Rich sat normally and went back to eating the cold food just a bit faster than before. His internal alarm was haywire and it needed to _shut up_ and _stop pressuring him._ The room was awkwardly silent.

“I… had no clue.” Chloe muttered.

“There’s literally no way you could’ve known. Nancy covers her tracks because, as I said, she’s a snake. Like, and actual snake in a human body.” His attempt at the joke failed to make anyone laugh, but Chloe cracked only a ghost of a smile.

“Well, that’s a lot to process.” Jake said with a nervous laugh. Picking at his food. Chloe was just slowly stabbing the same bit of egg repeatedly. The air was tense and the conversation would go nowhere from there. Chloe’s phone buzzed and she immediately picked it up. Rich was near finished with his plate when Chloe spoke again.

“So Jenna wants us to come over to her place when we’re ready. And I’m guessing by ‘ready’ she means make sure Rich is showered and in regular clothing.”

“But his wings-” Jake started.

“I can fold them so no one can see.”

“Doesn’t that make a bump in your shirt?”

“Nah. Watch-” Rich felt his shoulders tense and he folded. Once safely tucked away he did mini-jazz hands. He got more impressed looks from that.

“Huh. Well uh- the shower’s this way.” Jake pretty much abandoned his meal when he got up, Rich stuffed the last two bites of his own into his mouth before quickly following. Being led upstairs and having to wait outside the bathroom for Jake to find clothes and a towel.

 Jake had to help turn the water on and explain where everything was- but after Rich was alone it was smooth sailing.

 Rich sadly had to force himself out of the hot water and into clothes after the habitual fifteen minutes. But even then- he was dirt and grime free, dressed in clean clothing. Even if it was simple cargo shorts and a blue tanktop, anything other than stark white pants was amazing. He must’ve been too light on his feet when he went downstairs- because Chloe and Jake’s conversation didn’t stop when he drew closer to the doorway.

“This is insane, Jake,” Chloe said with an audible sigh.

“I know, but think about this. We have almost the entire group back. We could help them rebuild lives here. David can have his son back, we can fix this.”

“David _has_ a family, remember? He got married almost three years ago. He’s let it go.”

“You don’t just get past family going missing.”

“Like you have?” Chloe’s tone was sharp and the following silence was deafening. “Jesus, Jake I-”

“Forget it. It’s a conversation for a different time,” Jake huffed.

 Rich waited a few moments before walking in with a well-practiced grin on his face. The towel around his shoulders.

 Jake’s face brightened when he spotted the shorter teen. He’d changed into jeans and a t-shirt, a red and white letterman hanging on the back of his chair and an ice pack in his hand. “How was the shower?”

“Awesome. I feel five times better without cave dirt in my hair,” Rich laughed.

 It didn’t take long for Jake to pull on a jacket and shoes, giving Rich a pair of old flip-flops. All three of them were out the door and in Jake’s truck. Headed towards the address Jenna texted Chloe. Chloe had a piece of paper between two fingers.

“What’s that?” Rich asked from the back seat, nodding to the slip of paper.

“Hm? Oh, it’s Michael’s home phone number. I’m texting to to Jenna so she can call Michael. Jake found it in an old book.”

“We’re lucky I remembered it.”

“You have terrible memory.”

“I do not.”

“There’s still a water bottle under your couch, Jake.”

“So?”

“Why don’t you have Michael’s cellphone number?”

“Not long after you all were deemed runaways the group pretty much fell apart. We don’t really talk all that much outside of school.”

“Then why are you at Jake’s house?”

“Well, I was drunk as shit last night thanks to Jake’s party and he let me stay over.”

“Oh.”

   
**Rich was really hoping everything would be okay soon.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I hate is that there's still one more chapter where they have to explain everything again and I feel like it might annoy everyone? But it's unavoidable because characters need to know stuff. Ugh. I promise no one is getting punched next chapter- okay? It's been twice now. LAST THING Jake lowkey loving scifi is probably my favourite thing, okay?


	8. Everything was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenna meets two people. Things get explained. Jenna learns something she didn't expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty. *insert default ooc apology* let's just pretend that's before every single chapter from here on out. NOW I'm going to warn you guys- there's mention of an attempted suicide(s)/its methods in this chapter right after Brooke leaves the room and ends when she comes back. If you don't want to read it- you don't have too. 
> 
> Also, not sure if I've said it before but these chapters are getting longer and longer every time. Like on google docs, chapter seven was fourteen pages and this one is nineteen. Holy heck. Enjoy!

 

  Honestly, Jenna Rolan was tired. She was tired because of a lot of things, tired _of_ a lot of things too. But at this moment, her lack of sleep was getting to her. Instead of laying in her room, sleeping at four o’clock on a saturday morning, she sat on the stairway to the roof. The door open, the building’s hallway lights on, as always, and a heavy binder in her hands. There was a small throw blanket over her shoulders that she stole from the couch.

  Outside the covered stairway was noise. Rain hitting the cement roof, attacking the tin shack the man from 1A built, hit the dirt in the garden beds the older couple in 2B insistyed on having. The swing chair that the man in 2C built for his now-ex girlfriend, creaked as it moved back and forth in tiny motions. The ambiance was comforting and enjoyable.

  Instead of reading the contents of the binder for the millionth time- her mind was running away with the date. March sixth. Usually around their birthdays Jenna would try and reevaluate her opinion on the runaway cases. Using the folder her Mama left behind to help her. That binder was her information and facts.

  Most of it was copied and archived after the case was closed, the rest was put together by her Mama and her coworkers in the police station who knew the kids through Jenna and were equally suspicious. All of it relating to the cases. Lonely names, loose ends, and seemingly dead ends too. But a lot of things connected. Others started to, but nothing could properly solidify the connection between them and Nancy Heere. Like it was erased.

  Even without that folder for proof, the case seemed too easy. Everything was cleaned up too neatly, too soon. There were things abandoned in bedrooms that the kids thought of as too important to leave behind. Making everything about them being ‘runaways’ unbelievable to even the youngest of minds. The original investigation took too long to clear Nancy as easily as she was.

  Even looking at the four’s parents reactions was dead giveaway. Christine’s parents bailed after Nancy left. Brooke’s parents only shrugged it off, and immediately replaced Brooke with a son. Rich’s father wasn’t working but he seemed to be set for life, not giving any cares about his missing sons. Jeremy’s dad was heart-broken, but there was guilt in his eyes. Of course, no one else noticed.

  Jenna wasn’t angry at the four because of all that happened. Unlike Michael and Chloe, she wasn't furious. She didn’t stand neutral, like Jake. She was both curious and extremely worried about them. She wanted to know her friends were safe. Runaways or not. With each month that passed Jenna was slowly starting to believe that it was all a lost cause. It would take a long while for her hope to be gone, Jenna was a fairly determined person after all.

  This led Jenna to wonder if her current hobby of gathering information on people came from this binder. From helping her Mama find out more. Jenna was fairly good at gathering gossip and figuring out which rumor had more of an effect- but was even better at finding out more than someone would like. Her ability made her proud. Her Mom was proud. Jenna even tried to use that skill to keep the binder going. She didn’t get very far. Somehow, Jenna always found herself trying to fix a dead case in her spare time.

  Did that make her weird? It qualified as weird, anyways. Maybe too nostalgic, or insane. Ah yes, the definition of insanity. Could that apply here? Jenna searching the same things over and over and expecting something new to pop up and give her a lead? Would some over-arching mystery present itself with this evidence?

  Jenna’s switchboard of a train of thought was derailed when there was a loud _whoosh_ , followed by a _thump_ , and the _clang_ of the empty plastic plant pots being knocked over. Immediately afterwards she heard yelling, human yelling. The sound of someone panicking and someone else trying to calm them down.

  Overtaken by her curiosity, Jenna left her phone and folder under her blanket on the stairs. Going out into the rain in PJ’s to investigate. What she found were two winged teenaged girls sitting on the ground between two of the garden beds.

  The shorter one, with short green wings ruffled and slightly open. Moving her hands sporadically as she nearly yelled out a string of incoherent words between short breaths. The only one of which Jenna could understand was the word ‘dog’.

  The other girl was paler, sitting on her knees with one of her blue wings half shielding the other from the rain and the other folded behind her. Speaking softly and using gentler hand movements. One hand resting on the shorter’s shoulder and trying to keep eye contact.

  Even though Jenna couldn't make anything else out- she could tell they were exhausted. Both of their wings looked wet and heavy. They looked scratched up and hungry. The image of people who needed help. Jenna couldn't say a thing as she processed what she was seeing. Pushing away the random feeling that the two were familiar in some way. Which gave the two time to calm down and the shorter girl’s panicked words became easier to hear.

“No. No, Brooke. They could be hurt or-or _dead_! Did you _see_ that dog?! It was huge! It was bigger than me!”

“It wasn't that big-”

“Yes it was! It could eat Rich or Jeremy _whole_.”

“Christine, breathe,” the other, Christine, took a slow breath. Visibly shaking as the taller, Brooke, continued, “there we go. Now you're exaggerating. The dog was barely taller than your knee. It's not going to hurt the boys- they landed further away, alright?”

“This was a _horrible_ idea. They could be hurt or dead or- what if we don't find them? What if they can't find _us_ or they're lost or- oh my gosh what if Jeremy is on his own? If we don't find him in time he could panic and then we can't find _him_ because he'll hide because he's _panicking_ and- AGGHH.” Christine buried her face in her hands, clearly overwhelmed by the potential problems she'd just named.

  The frustrated growl from Christine was sudden. Jenna jumped back on instinct and the back of her foot nudged a pot on the ground. Brooke's head snapped up to look at her. Eyes widening and not breaking away from Jenna’s face.

  Brooke's expression grew more frightened the longer the two shared eye contact. She didn't look away when she gently shook Christine’s shoulder and said, “We need to leave.”

“I can't go,” Christine said dramatically, face still covered, “my wings are soaked.”

“I know but we have too-”

“Are you both alright?”

  At Jenna’s voice, Christine's head snapped up to look at her. The air was quiet except for the sound of rain. In the thin light of the other buildings around theirs- Jenna could barely make out that Christine’s eyes were red and puffy. Brooke slowly stood up, keeping her arm extending towards the other as she did.

“We’re fine.”

  Jenna put on a disbelieving face and let her shock numb away. Allowing her attention to stay on the scared girls in front of her. Jenna crossed her arms and put weight on one leg, looking over the two. From what she could see, they looked horrible. Dirty and scratched. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

  Brooke raised her eyebrows and glanced down at Christine. Christine looked back and then focused on Jenna again. She stood up, holding her right arm close like something was wrong with it and she was afraid to admit she was hurt.

“We’re not fine,” she said, looking Jenna dead in the eye with some emotion that couldn’t be read. Christine let go of her arm to reveal the streak of red being washed away by the rain. Jenna immediately went into action.

“Holy shit- here, come with me. We’ll get you fixed up and dried off.” Jenna took a step back and hurriedly gestured to the open door. The two shared a look, worry in their features. Jenna felt hurt by it, but understood. She was a stranger, afterall. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Heard that a million times,” Brooke hissed under her breath, most likely thinking Jenna couldn’t hear it. Christine nudged Brooke and led the way to the door. Brooke followed after. Jenna slipped past the two at the door and swept her things into her arms before water could be dripped on them.

“My door is the last one on the right. Go on ahead while I lock the door.”

“Why do you have to lock the door?” Brooke sounded worried.

“It’s so people who aren’t tenants can’t go up there and steal things.”

  The two were halfway down the stairs when they paused to watch Jenna close the old door with a _SLAM_ and used the key on the end of a lanyard to lock the door. Brooke was gripping Christine’s wrist on her uninjured arm as Jenna turned around. They were quiet for a moment before Jenna nodded her head. A signal for the two to get off the stairs and go. They took the hint and began walking.

  ‘Tragically’- there was a tacky carpet lining the hallway between apartments. By the time Brooke and Christine got to the end of the hall the floor was soaked with the water dripping from their wings and clothes. Jenna could see some small drops of red mixed with the rainwater. Jenna causally ignored the water in favour of slipping past the girls- who stopped at her door- and starting to unlock the door. Blanket draped over her arm, phone in her pocket, and the folder pressed between her upper arm and torso.

  Jenna went to open the door but stuck her knee between the frame and the door. Turning to the girls she said, “are either of you allergic to cats?”

  Brooke and Christine shared yet another look. This one curious. “I don’t think so?” Christine said in more of a question than an answer. It was good enough for her, so Jenna shrugged and opened the door wider. Stepping inside and muttering at one of the three cats. The grey mackerel who liked to greet people at the door, Nessie.

  Once Brooke and Christine were out of the main hall, Jenna closed the door. Blocking out the constant light from the hall from the dark apartment. The only real light came from the large windows on the far side of the room- where the table was. Streetlamps and still-glowing signs from the shopping district below trying to replace lamps.

  Christine immediately walked into the living room and sat down on the floor in front of the couch. Holding her hand out to a smaller cat, an orange tabby named Bambi, who was woken up by Jenna opening the door. Brooke went to lean over her shoulder as the final of Jenna’s cat trio appeared. An old long haired Russian blue casually named Ted.

  Jenna watched them for a moment, amused but betrayed, before cutting through the living room to the openly connected kitchen. Turning on a lamp and dropping her things onto the empty half of the couch as she did. Going down the hallway to the bathroom, Jenna dug around under the sink to dig out the medkit, and grabbed towels and a few small rags from the linen closet. She walked back into the living room to find Bambi on Brooke’s shoulders, sniffing the base of her wing from his perch while Ted just sniffed Christine’s hair. It was comedic.

  Jenna went around and turned on the other lamps in the living room to give her more light. When she turned, however, she didn’t like what she saw. Christine had road rash all down her arm. Steadily bleeding. Mixed with the water it dripped fast, turning the side of her ripped skirt red. Brooke seemed to have a similarly bad case on the outside of her left thigh that climbed to the side of her knee. The leggings she was wearing were ripped, and the skirt stuck to her leg. Quickly turning the once white cloth red.

  Both were scratched and bruised on their shins and knees. Jenna was suddenly thankful that her Mom replaced the white carpet with a dark red one before she left for her business trip earlier that week. What really worried Jenna was Brooke’s leg, it wasn’t that bad but her skirt was filthy. Dirt could easily get in and infect it. But it wasn’t bleeding that much- and Christine was bleeding on the new carpet. Her Mom would be so disappointed that it didn’t even last a week before getting stained. Disappointed enough to ‘kill’ Jenna, or more specifically- kill Jenna’s online presence for around a week.

  Setting the medkit on the table, Jenna handed the two the towels. Two each. Large and somewhat fluffy- her Mama loved fluffy towels. Jenna quickly dropped an older, limp towel on the ground where the carpet ended and swiped it across the fake hardwood floor with her foot towards the door. Leaving the rag on the ground for now to go fix up Christine and Brooke.

  She kneeled on the ground between Christine and the coffee table with her own towel around her shoulders. The rain was coming down hard outside and easily soaked Jenna’s hair and shoulders. Reaching for the medkit and opening it, she pulled out an assortment of bandaids, gauze, and a large bottle of disinfectant. “I need to see your arm, after I’m done we’re patching up your leg,” Jenna nodded towards Brooke’s bleeding wound. Brooke- who had a towel over her hair- looked at it and yelped. Apparently she didn’t know she was hurt, yet she walked just fine earlier.

  Christine shifted to be sitting on her legs in front of the table, injured arm facing Jenna and her other hand rubbing a towel over her wet hair. Jenna went about holding the bottom of Christine’s arm with a rag and looking at the shorter girl.

“Fair warning, this is going to sting a lot.” Christine nodded and shut her eyes tight. Gripping her skirt in her hand as if mentally preparing herself for it. Jenna shrugged it off and slowly poured the disinfectant down her arm. Christine only hissed once and relaxed. Which was confusing, but dismissed. Once it was done Jenna went to work wrapping her arm.

“So,” Jenna started as she worked, “I’m Jenna Rolan.” Jenna purposefully ignored Christine’s arm jerking slightly and her brief expression one of shock. “What’re your names?” Jenna looked up at Christine then glanced to Brooke.

  The two strangers shared a look before Christine shrugged. Jenna was halfway done when Brooke spoke, “thats Christine Canigula.” Jenna froze, but didn’t look up from her work. “And I’m Brooklyn Lohst, but I prefer Brooke.”

  Jenna looked up and made eye-contact with Christine. The two just staring with mixed expressions. Confused, shocked, curious, somehow overjoyed. Jenna didn’t need proof- it was a gut feeling that these were the teenage versions of her friends. And Jenna’s gut was pretty accurate in her book.

“You’re kidding,” Jenna said in a tone that clearly meant she believed them. Christine shook her head while Brooke shrugged. Jenna went back to trying to finish Christine’s arm, only a quarter left. “You know, I’ve been trying to track you guys down for _forever_ , right?”

“You were?” Brooke said in surprise and oddly enough, relief. It was Jenna’s turn to shrug.

“Did the best a tween could do without being suspicious. A lot of people are mad at you though,” Jenna stopped the bandages at her wrist and taped the end down.

  Christine switched places with Brooke as she said, “I can imagine. We did just suddenly up and ‘leave’,” Christine laughed. It wasn’t genuine.

  Jenna grabbed the scissors by the closed blade and said, “do you want to just change into shorts or can I cut your leggings?”

“Shorts!” Brooke’s expression brightened. Jenna shrugged and got up. Brooke followed her to the bedroom, slower than earlier. At least her wings were mostly dry.

  Changing into an old pair of Jenna’s cotton shorts was quick for Brooke- and soon they were back in the living room. Jenna holding the disinfectant. It was the same process, Brooke hissed but didn’t do anything else.

“But anyways, what happened? Did you guys really run away?” Jenna tried to portray in her tone that she knew they didn’t runaway by choice. Friends don’t just disappear for years and come back with bird wings.

“What? Do you doubt the notes?” Brooke’s tone was purely a joking sarcastic. Jenna started to wrap Brooke’s leg.

“Never believed them. The handwriting was too nice. That and I’m about ninety percent sure you didn’t have wings what is it- almost six years ago on the eighth?”

“Hey! I don’t have bad handwriting!” Brooke defended. This got Christine to actually laugh.

“You’re right about the handwriting thing though. But no, we didn’t run away. Nancy kidnapped us.”

Jenna stopped and looked over at Christine in surprise. “Nancy? Nancy _Heere_?”

  Christine rolled the shoulder to her uninjured arm until it popped. When it did she hummed a single note in satisfaction. “Yeah, she works for the company that’s responsible for the wings. They turned us into experiments when we were what, two? Three?”

“Two,” Brooke confirmed as Jenna cut the bandage and started to tape the end down.

“Right, but we didn’t get these,” Christine ruffled her wings for emphasis, “until we turned twelve. Which was close to or when we were taken.” Jenna had to admit the reasons were far from what she thought. Her Mama and she thought it was some kind of trafficking ring that got kids in it by making them run away from home somehow. Now the reason was _far_ more interesting than the theory.

“Think you can explain in detail?” Jenna asked. Christine smiled and was about to answer when a growling sound silences everyone. It became clear what the problem was. “You’re both hungry.”

  A guilty smile and Brooke and a nod from Christine had Jenna up on her feet. Leading the way to the kitchen. “I got you covered. Are leftovers good?”

“Anything but oatmeal and mashed potatoes would be _amazing_ ,” said Brooke as she followed Jenna to the kitchen. Christine behind her. Jenna didn’t noticed, she was starting to get lost in thought, as one does, as she dished three bowls of leftover dinner and popped the first one into the microwave.

  Right here, in her apartment, were two of the four people she and her Mama had been looking for. Well, not just them- the police department and the rest of the group did for a while. Both of those girls had confirmed that they didn’t runaway and where kidnapped by Nancy Heere. She was right! They, children who were still tweens and a few choice adults, were right since the start. Which gave Jenna the mixed feeling of accomplishment and dread. One question popped up in her mind. _Why them?_

  Then there’s the whole wing thing. Experiments? Since they were two? How long has this experiment been going on? Was it older than them? Were there other children besides the four? Why wings? Why children? What happened during their time away? Where had they been? And better yet- if there were others- _where are they_?

  Jenna glanced over to Christine. The girl was looking around at the colourful decorations, purposefully exposed cookware, and picture frames that her Mom and Mama used to make the apartment feel more like home. The look on her face was like she was standing in some mesmerizing painting instead of a downtown apartment. Christine was freaking out over a dog earlier.

  She wondered what happened to make the sweet, animal loving Christine, who wanted to own _ten_ different dogs when she was younger, so afraid of her favourite thing. She wondered why leaving Jeremy on his own could cause him to panic. She wondered a lot of things in the many seconds before the microwave beeped.

  It didn’t take long until the three were back on the living room floor, surrounding the glass coffee table. Quietly eating. Jenna watched the two. They restrained themselves, but ate somewhat quickly. Like they were on a timer and only had a certain amount of time to eat. Visibly trying to force themselves to slow down. Jenna also noticed how straight they both sat despite looking tired. it was eerie to say the least.

“You want to know what happened, right?” Christine said halfway through her bowl. Jenna silently nodded and watched Brooke and Christine share yet another look. A knowing look, worried eyes, a question and an answer. It was amazing how much they could communicate from a glance.

 

\---

 

  Christine was happy about many things right then. She was in a friend’s house instead of a cave or a tree. She was eating something that wasn’t bland slop or stolen chips. No one was bleeding or panicking. The water in her wings was almost entirely gone, soaked up by the soft carpet. There was a fluffy towel over her shoulders. A cat, no, three cats sat around her and Brooke like they weren’t some strange hybrid.

  Except she had a bad feeling that telling the truth wouldn’t end well. Mainly because Jenna was always a curious person and always had questions. Some of which Christine knew she didn’t have answers too, and others which she knew that Brooke wouldn’t want to re-hear.

  Christine, like everyone else, _despised_ their origin story for many reasons. She hated that it was the cause to everyone being hurt. She hated that it meant her parents didn’t care. She hated that she _still_ missed her family. Hated _how_ Brooke and Jeremy got to the Centre after so long. Hated how disappointed and angry and upset she had been to _everyone_ who caused them that pain. Hated that Rich got burned just to reach Brooke and Jeremy after he heard the Medward rumours. Hated that Rich attempted to escape when he didn’t even know if there _would_ be a Jeremy or Brooke to reach by the time he got there. All in all- Christine hated that their past was littered with people who purposefully hurt children for a paycheck.

  Jenna tilted her head to the side. Silently urging Christine to continue.

“So, our parents basically sold us to the company when we were young. Turned us into experiments for some project. It’s all owned by a guy named Sebastian, and Nancy pretty much works at the same level as he does. She simply gave him to the company without David knowing. Tragic, really.” Jenna was nodding as she listened. Brooke idly stabbed at her food.

“The company made this serum stuff,” Christine continued while setting her fork down, “and it had this change of either killing us or giving us wings between the time we got it or an expiration date. Which was when we turned thirteen. It’s a genetic make-over in a syringe basically. And they’d pay our parents monthly to raise us until the stuff worked, it killed us, or didn’t do anything. As fate had it, we turned twelve, it worked and we lived through the process. We were swept up and thrown into some underground lab in northern Michigan. We broke out about a week ago and ta-da! We flew here!”

  Christine’s suspicions were right and she could almost see the questions buzz around in Jenna’s head.

“Why have the experiment? What’s the point of it?”

  Christine shrugged, “Wish I knew. All we know is that we were just sold for a monthly check.”

“Hm. Where’s Jeremy and Rich? You mentioned them up on the roof.”

“You heard that, huh?” Brooke said, slightly embarrassed that they were being that loud in a public space. Even if it was a mostly empty rooftop. Jenna nodded. “Well, we were flying in this direction and tried flying through the rainstorm. Our wings got waterlogged and there were complications. Turns out- we can’t fly in rain. There was a possibility of us all crashing into something dangerous so Rich decided that we’d all split up and meet again on the ground when the rain stops.”

  Jenna hummed. “I don’t know what he was thinking,” Christine said bitterly, “the idea was just so _stupid_.”

“So you also mentioned that Jeremy shouldn’t be left alone. Why?”

“He gets really panicky when he’s on his own for too long. He usually holds out for about forty five minutes, sometimes even an hour. But after that it’s really just eggshells. He holds out even less if he’s in a stressful situation- like being in a new place after crashing for example. Brooke gets the same way.”

“But _why_?”

  Christine saw Brooke freeze from the corner of her eye and looked over. Brooke stared back and ran a hand over the back of her neck. Most of her neck was hidden by the halter top- but if Christine focused she could see the smallest scar peek just over the edge of the shirt. Brooke’s expression just read ‘You can tell her but I don’t want to be around for it’.

“How about Brooke grabs a shower and we can continue our talk? I’m sure she’ll appreciate it, right Brooke?”

  Brooke smiled and nodded quickly, setting her now empty bowl on the table. Jenna was hesitant- but got up anyways. Gesturing for Brooke to follow her back to her room to find clothes. While Christine waited- she picked up the empty dishes and rinsed them in the sink. Sitting down just after the water started and hearing Jenna walk up and sit across from her.

“Alright, it’s not the best story. But Brooke and Jeremy aren’t-” Christine furrowed her brow, “they don’t-” Another pause. She was trying to find the right words. She’s never really said this story out loud. The only ones who said it were Brooke and Jeremy- even then it was through tears. “They can’t be alone because it’s more of a reminder, I guess?”

“Reminder of what?”

“Well, in short it’s mostly the first four or so years in the lab. Rich and I were kept in what we call the Centre the entire six years. Only about two years ago Brooke and Jeremy joined us. They were in some sort of sub-experiment before. Psychological stuff. But they were kept on their own in these rooms called Cells. Think of prison cells, except the walls are solid white, the doors are solid, and they’re only slightly smaller. And they have metal beds.” Jenna scrunched her nose.

“The two were kept separate from each other and us. Two week intervals between something like solitary confinement and harsh testing. Which did a lot of damage that we’ve only recently been able to start fixing.”

“Damage like what?”

“Well the whole ‘alone’ thing for starters. It didn’t happen often because we were always with at least one other person- but they panic after a while by themselves if they can't see or hear anyone. Not sure why. But solitary confinement can mess up an adult after a minimum of two days- even then _they_ know where they are. Jeremy and Brooke _woke up_ in their cells after the wing growing process. Which isn’t instant and hurts a lot, that and near the end there's this surgery thing. But the stress of the isolation, the guards and dogs, the tests, the talks with Sebastian and Nancy- I guess something in them just… _snapped_ after a while.”

“Snapped? Did they attack someone?”

“No. I wish that’s what happened. But… it was about a week before Rich heard a guard mention it. Rich heard that they were in the Medward for bad injuries and mental evaluations. And when Jeremy and Brooke joined us after their admission they told us what happened.”

“Well what happened?” Jenna’s tone was hinting as slight annoyance. Christine stopped beating around the bush.

“They both attempted suicide.” Silence.

“I- what?”

“Yeah.... I don’t know why, and they don’t like to talk about it. Which is why Brooke’s in the shower right now instead of hearing this. But they both have scars that you shouldn’t mention. Heck, _everyone of us_ has scars that we'd rather not talk about.”

“If it’s not a problem… mind if I ask how?”

“For Brooke and Jeremy?” Jenna nodded. Christine sighed. This wasn’t how she imagined talking to Jenna for the first time in years would go. It was heavier than she’d like. “I dunno if I should say but… I guess it’d be important so you know about the scars.” Christine ran a hand through her hair. “Brooke was running the track. Normally it’s a test to see how fast you run when chased by animals. Or it's a speed comparison, not sure. They were testing her with the pack of dogs again- very angry dogs that don’t really like us. Brooke told me she ran half a mile and then she just… stopped and let herself get attacked.” Christine could see the chill run up Jenna’s spine. “Jeremy stole a guard’s knife and cut his arm pretty bad the same day. Then there was a scuffle with the guards. They were trying to get Jeremy _away_ from the knife that made it worse and… yeah.”

  There was silence for a solid ten minutes before Brooke was out of the shower. Dressed in the same blue cotton shorts and what looked to be a somewhat fancy black backless shirt. As formal as it might’ve looked- Brooke looked extremely comfortable with her hair wrapped up in a towel and wings unfolded and dry. Christine could now clearly see the scars at her neck. Sitting in a way that matched the dog's jaws that had wrapped around her throat. The marks warped slightly. Most likely from the guard tearing said dog off her in the scuffle.

“I uhm… have clothes for you too, Christine. If you wanted to grab a shower next.”

  Christine smiled wide and did just that. Taking the clothes and grabbing her own shower. Not daring to take over fifteen minutes- but taking long enough to get clean and enjoy the feeling of actual hot water instead of closer-to-cold-than-lukewarm.

  She dressed in dark green leggings and a backless dress. Thin strapped and black, with white lines forming a grid across it. Christine was in love with how comfortable it was- even though it was only a bit big and smelled like an old hand-me-down. Something that Jenna had thrown aside for donation and forgot about.

  Christine walked back into the living room with a towel over her head like a hood, only to be greeted with Brooke sitting on the couch, surrounded by at least two blankets and two fluffed pillows. Two other blankets were folded under two pillows on the loveseat. Presumably for her. Jenna was leaning on the arm of the couch, scrolling through her phone with a determined expression. She looked up when Christine walked into the room.

“It's getting late so I thought you two would like to go to sleep.” Christine smiled and walked over to the couch. Falling back on it with a relaxed sigh. She caught Jenna looking at her, amused. Brooke adjusted her pillows and wrapped her legs in the soft blankets. Even though neither of them had use for the cloth. Their wings worked as decent covers.

  The blankets were soft though, Christine was wrapped up and laying on her stomach. Hugging a pillow to the side of her face and watching as Jenna went around and turned off lights. A binder in her arm and an older looking blankets draped over her arm. Brooke was already out before the last light went off.

“Jenna?” Christine said softly, currently fighting off sleep. Jenna looked back over at her. “Tomorrow… can we go looking for Jeremy and Rich?”

  Jenna smiled back at her, “sure.”

 

\---

 

  Jenna was the first person awake. It was past one o’clock, the sun was shining through the curtains she’d left open, and exhaustion ran in her bones. She lazily reached over to the table next to her bed where her phone sat, charging. She rolled onto her back, phone unplugged and held over her face, scrolling through social media. Fifteen minutes later she noticed her throat was dry and business needed taking care of.

 So she slipped out of her room, ran to the bathroom and went into the kitchen for some water. That was when she remembered that there were two winged teenagers on her couches. Brooke had kicked off one blanket, and the other was half wrapped around her uninjured leg and half on the floor. Christine had the blanket over her shoulders. Curled into herself with her wings gently folded between the back of the couch and her. Balancing on the edge. Both visibly at peace.

 As quietly as possible, Jenna snuck ice from the freezer and ran the tap before disappearing back into her bedroom. Where she paced back and forth with her phone back on the bedside table. Open to an empty chatlog for the one and only Chloe Valentine. A number she had gotten from Nicole so she could scope out extra gossip. Maybe she and Jake would be able to help her, Christine, and Brooke find the two missing boys.

‘ _Now_ ,’ thought Jenna, ‘how am I going to randomly tell an ex-best friend that I found people who we previously thought _abandoned_ us without her getting angry and thinking of me as crazy?’ With a groan, Jenna put her head in her hand. ‘I _can’t_. That’s how.’

 She kept pacing around and then decided she’d try and call Michael. But she didn’t have his number. She’d remembered ripping the paper his home phone was written on to shreds after their group had their final falling out. And they weren’t even close when they all got cellphones. So strike that option out. And it was Saturday. Stopping any one of them at school would be held off until Monday at the earliest. Jenna was about to consider just driving to Chloe’s house and talking there when her phone dinged.

 Jenna didn’t jump to answer, in fact it wasn’t until the second ding that she even _knew_ someone was texting her. She sat down on the side of the bed and picked up her phone. Chloe was the one who texted her.

 

 **Chloe V.:** Hey its chloe anne gave me ur number

 **Chloe V.:** We need 2 talk

 **You:** About what?

 **Chloe V.:** U need 2 sit 4 this

 **You:** Already sitting.

 **Chloe V.:** Jake and i found rich this morning

 **Chloe V.:** in his backyward

 **Chloe V.:** backyard

 

 Jenna felt an undeniable excitement in her chest. This had to be luck. Three down, one to go!

 

 **You:** Cool.

 **Chloe V.:** Cool???

 **Chloe V.:** I thougth u would be more surprised tbh

 **You:** I would but Christine and Brooke showed up last night on my roof sooo

 **Chloe V.:** Holy shit

 **You:** ikr

 **Chloe V.:** I told rich and hes super worried rn

 **Chloe V.:** He wants 2 kno if they where hurt and if brooke is by herself?

 **You:** Nah they’re fine. They’re asleep atm tho.

 **You:** We were up till like 3 explaining stuff so they’re p tired. Christine scratched her arm and Brooke scratched her leg tho. Nothing really bad.

 

 Jenna was digging around in her dresser for a cleaner outfit. Having been too tired to change out of the clothes from the previous night. As she did, her phone dinged.

 

 **Chloe V.:** Do you know where Jermy is?

 **Chloe V.:** Jeremy

 **You:** Nope.

 

 Jenna quickly got dressed and snuck down to the bathroom to at least brush her teeth. Leaving her phone behind on the table. She returned to see only one new message from Chloe.

 

 **Chloe V.:** Rich loves eggs pass it on

 **You:** To who??

 **Chloe V.:** Idk??? Chickens??

 

 That got Jenna to laugh as she heard shuffling from the living room. She went to go check it out and found Christine sitting up. Rubbing her eye with the palm of her hand and yawning. Christine sleepily smiled at her when she walked in. Brooke was still out like a light.

“So good news,” Jenna said softly, walking into the kitchen with her phone in one hand and water in the other. She set the cup down on the counter as Christine stood up. Her short hair had dried overnight and was a mess of waves that stuck out in some places. Almost comedically. “Chloe texted me. She and Jake have Rich.”

 Christine’s sleepy smile turned into a grin and she seemed to wake up instantly. “Really? That's amazing!” Her voice was quiet, as to not disturb the sleeping Brooke. She was in the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest, hip leaning against the counter as she watched Jenna quietly sneak around the kitchen.

 Jenna pulled a box of Eggo waffles from the freezer and plug in the toaster. “They don't know where Jeremy is- and I can't contact Michael just yet. So that's one downside.” Three waffles were dropped into the four slotted toaster and the box was put away as quietly as it was grabbed.

“Why can't you talk to Michael? Aren't you friends?”

 Jenna sighed and leaned back against the counter opposite the fridge door. Hands holding the edge. “Not anymore. Once Nancy was cleared of kidnapping suspicions we were all on eggshells. Something happened, I think it was after your parents moved out of town.” Christine’s face soured with an expression that read more like _good riddance_ rather than _oh, they left_. “... We all got into an argument and split apart. That was nearly… a year after you and Brooke were gone? Something close to that. We just never talked to each other. Except Jake and Chloe went out for a while in the fall of last year. Broke up after New Years but stayed friends. Everyone thinks they're off and on- obviously they're not.”

 Jenna’s change in the subject brought a different kind of silence than it would've if she just dropped the topic after the fight. She wasn't sure how it was different, but it was slightly lighter. Christine hummed a single note softly.

“So, other than the shitty lab stuff- how've you been?”

 Christine looked over at Jenna like she grew another head. She shifted the way her arms crossed and shrugged. “Not sure, the wings were weird at first and they cause a lot of weird stuff, other than that… neutral?”

“Weird stuff?”

“Yeah. Like- you know how people get aches in their muscles or whatever?” Jenna nodded. “Well we get these things we call ‘bone aches’. We're pretty sure they come from when our bones were hollowed in the wing growing process and when the doctors had to do this thing to help the bones in our wings sit proper.”

“What'd they do?”

“Not sure. We just know that the marrow is gone and the bones in our wings are pretty much grafts, metal, and donations. We were knocked out for the procedures.”

“How do you know about the metal, then?”

“Metal detectors.”

“What-”

“They used to give us metal utensils for meals until Rich started hiding them in his waistband and attacked a scientist. Stabbed her eye and now she wears a cool looking eyepatch. But they used a metal detector on us when we left the Centre to make sure we don't have any until they switched to plastic.”

“He… stabbed a scientist’s eye out with a _fork_.”

“Rich may have stupid ideas, but he's got strength. And it's not really the best idea to sneak up on him when he's stressed.”

 Jenna nodded, dumbfounded and shocked. The things you learn. When the toaster popped, Christine jumped and knocked over an abandoned cup. Empty and plastic. It fell off the counter and bounced on the ground with a loud clatter.

 Brooke jumped and fell off the couch with a squawk and a loud _thunk_. Christine kept herself from laughing by putting a hand over her mouth.

 Jenna watched Brooke's head pop up from over the back of the couch and frown. “Not cool.” Christine actually broke out into soft laughter. “Really? It wasn't that funny!”

“It kinda was,” Christine said as her giggled died down. Jenna watched both of them with amusement before grabbing three napkins and pulling the individual waffles out of the toaster. Handing one to Christine and holding one out in Brooke’s direction. Brooke got up and made her way to go get the offering.

“I'm gonna invite Jake, Chloe, and Rich over- that cool?” Jenna asked, just out of the habit of asking. Brooke's expression brightened at Rich’s name and Christine smiled. Nodding in agreement as she started eating.

 Jenna picked up her phone and went back to leaning her back on the counter. Texting with one hand as she ate.

 

 **You:** When you're all ready, you can head over to my place. Chris and Brooke wanna meet up.

 **Chloe V.:** alrighty

 

 Jenna, in the then minutes it took to realize her mistake, had changed her living room. The table was moved to the far side of the room, she'd dragged blankets and as many pillows as she would dare from her room and the couches and made a large pallet on the ground for the girls.

 The event that triggered this was Christine had made an offhand comment about wanting to watch a movie at some point, since it had been years since she'd been able to. So the pallet was quickly completed and the two girls were at the bookcase picking out a movie when Jenna remembered.

 Jenna forgot that she moved houses in eighth grade. She used to live in the same neighbourhood as Michael, right down the street. Which made it easy to go over, collect Michael and Jeremy and their scooters, and ride the five blocks down and two blocks left that it took to get to Jake’s. She was pretty sure the only person who figured out her move was Michael- and that's only because of the moving truck. Eighth grade hit hard on her Mom.

 

 **You:** Oh!! I forgot to tell you!!!

 **You:** I moved to an apartment downtown.

 **Chloe V.:** since when????

 **You:** End of eighth grade

 **Chloe V.:** why???

 

 Jenna felt hesitant to answer with the flat out truth without making everything awkward. So she settled to move around the subject.

 

 **You:** Cheaper.

 

 Jenna was quick to type out her address and send it to Chloe.

 

 **Chloe V.:** Thx

 **You:** do you or Jake have Michael's number still??

 **Chloe V.:** I don't but jake might lemme ask.

 

 Not long after, Brooke pulled the DVD release of Heathers off the shelf. Holding it victoriously over her head and grinning widely. Christine smiled and went to sit down on the pallet.

 Jenna popped the DVD in and they had just gotten past the unskippable commercials when Chloe texted again. With Jenna sitting comfortably on the corner of the couch. Phone resting on the arm of the couch. The first thing she saw was a phone number.

 

 **Chloe V.:** Jake still had it dunno if it changed tho

 **Chloe V.:** Also omw over rn

 **You:** Thanks.

 

 Jenna took a minute to dial Michael's number and slipped into the hallway when it started to ring. Propping the door open slightly with a shoe and going to pace in front of the stairs. She could hear soft rain hitting the metal door at the top. The phone picked up on the third ring.

_“Hello?"_

 Jenna held back a sigh of relief hearing Michael's voice on the other side of the phone. Then she realized she had no idea how she would convince one of the people who was downright _furious_ that their friends returned.

“Michael?” She said, “it's Jenna. There's something important I need to tell you.”

 There was a beat of silence before Michael simply said, “ _fuckin’ same_.” In the most causally determined voice she'd ever heard. Then there was another pause. “ _Jenna, how'd you get this number?_ ”

“Chloe got it from Jake and she gave it to me.”

“ _How the fuck does Jake have this old number?"_

“Ask him, not me. Anyways, I need you to not freak out when I tell you the news.” Jenna was curling her hair around her finger. A nervous tick she was trying to kick but was having a hard time doing so.

“ _I won’t flip. Nothing can really surprise me compared to the day I’ve had so far._ ”

 A soft ‘hey!’ was said in the background and Michael’s laugh rang through the speaker. It’d been a long time since Jenna had even seen Michael smile, let alone laugh. Then again, it _had_ been years. Jenna jumped into her explanation.

“So, I was up by the roof reading, right? And there was this crash and I found-”

“ _Hang on a sec_ ,” Michael must’ve set the phone down and walked away because his voice was softer in the background. " _Why_ _didn’t you tell me the water was boiling?_ ” Someone answered in a slightly louder voice-

“ _I can’t see inside the pot from here, dude. I see in the dark, not through objects._ ”

 Jenna could hear the awe in Michael’s expression, “ _You can see in the_ **_dark_** _?_ ”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

“ _Awesome._ ” The sound of pasta falling into a pot was shortly followed by Michael picking up the phone again.

“Who were you talking too?” As far as Jenna knew, Michael didn’t have people over at his house that wasn’t family.

“ _Jeremy._ ”

“Oh o- wait Jeremy?” _That_ was a surprise.

“ _Yeah- Heere? He fell out of my tree at like, four in the morning."_

“Huh. What a coincidence.”

“ _What do you mean?_ ”

“I found Brooke and Christine on the roof this morning. And Chloe and Jake have Rich. They’re coming over in about eight, maybe ten minutes?”

“ _I’m guessing you’re inviting us over too?_ ”

“Yeah, pretty much. Christine’s request.”

“ _Alrighty. I’mma make this mac for Jere and then we’ll head over. Uh- your address changed, right?_ ”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“ _I live down the street. Saw the moving truck. If I give you my cell will you text me the address?_ ”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  A quick trade of numbers and goodbyes later- the line was dead. Jenna was actually pretty excited. Everything was going smoothly. The group was coming together again, if not for a strange reason, but together either way. Jenna walked back into the apartment and kicked the shoe away from the door. Hearing Brooke laugh at a joke from the movie.

 

**Everything was turning out okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when/how to end a chapter tbh. It's all rushed. This one took me forever to get right, too, and I was debating adding the whole 'reveal Brooke and Jeremy's experiment' thing. But one person at least needed to know off the bat and yeah... it hurts to hurt the babes.
> 
> If there are errors, please tell me b/c it's mostly unedited! Also school started and I'm just??? What even is senior year??? It's a mess. That's what it is. A. Mess.


	9. Things Felt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People meet up. Things get sorted out. Some things get tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda plain chapter in my opinion? Things don’t feel quite right after everyone gets together- But eh. I wrote the draft for this like, three times and couldn’t think of anything better/better character interactions. Plus it’s shorter compared to other chapters : / still long though. Ooc warning (heh. Again oms.) Oh! But thanks for everyone’s comments in the last chapter! They were super nice! Y’all are super nice!!

  Jeremy felt comfortable, more comfortable than he had been in a long while. After eating, Michael had pulled out old clothes and showed him the shower. So right then, dressed in old jeans, an old orange hoodie, and worn-down converse, Jeremy peacefully stood in the kitchen while Michael hunted for his car-keys downstairs. Jeremy was distracted by the colours and the gentle rain falling outside to really notice the absence, that and he could hear the taller boy muttering to himself downstairs.

  There was an odd feeling to the air around him. Nostalgic, but in a sad way. Like the things around him shouldn’t be nostalgic, they should be familiar. A feeling Jeremy suspected would start to come more often, especially around his own house, if his dad even stayed in that old place. He wouldn’t blame him if he moved.

“Found ‘em,” Said Michael, shuffling up the stairs and kicking the shoe holding the door open away. The basement door shut with a loud _SLAM_ that made Jeremy jump and whip around to look at him. Michael looked at him with amusement, a lanyard in one hand. He led Jeremy out the front door and unlocked the PT Cruiser. Jeremy was sliding into the passenger seat as Michael locked up the house and ran through the rain to the driver’s side.

  The car started with a dull hum and Jeremy took the chance to look Michael over. Before Jeremy’s shower, Michael looked nothing but tense. Like he didn’t know what to think. Casually playing it all off under a smiling and joking expression. When Jeremy got out, he looked better. He had a handle on the situation. The car was silent as it was pulled out of the driveway.

“Is your hearing any different?” Michael asked when they were halfway down the street.

  Jeremy fidgeted with the same Tweety bandaid, even if the cut was healed and unnecessary. “Why?”

“I heard on animal planet that owls have this sensitive hearing or whatever. And since you said something about genetics I was wondering if that changed too.”

“Oh. Yeah, my hearing is something like that.”

“Alright, mind if I turn on some music?” Jeremy’s face lit up. _Music_! It’d been so long since he heard any sort of melody that wasn’t Christine trying to remember showtunes. Not that it was bad, Christine was quite the singer, but instruments were always welcome.

“No! Go ahead!” Jeremy answered much too eagerly. Michael looked over and raise an eyebrow before switching the radio on and immediately turning the volume down as the first couple of note _blasted_ through the speakers. Jeremy yelped and covered his ears with his hands. Michael laughed.

“And _that’s_ why I asked about the hearing.”

“ _Damn_ that hurt,” Jeremy muttered before taking his hands away. Now that the music was at a more comfortable level for the both of them- Jeremy could easily understand the song. Sadly, he couldn’t figure out what song it was. “What _is_ this?”

  It wasn’t an accusing tone, more of a wondrous and curious one, which made Michael smirk. Michael gasped loudly and overdramatically put a hand over his heart. “Do you _not_ know the wondrous voice of _Whitney Houston_?! Jeremiah I. Am. _Shocked_!”

  Jeremy looked genuinely worried and nervous. Gripping the edge of the seat between his knees with white knuckles and glancing between the radio and Michael repeatedly. Worried he actually offended him by not knowing the song. Michael had a smirk on his face that quickly faltered when he looked back. “I-I don’t- um. I don’t know this song? I didn’t mean to offend you- I. Sorry.”

“No, Jeremy don’t- I was joking. It was just a joke, you didn’t offend me. It’s all good relax,” Michael quickly tried to recover. Jeremy decided to stare at the dashboard and mutter an extra apology. Leaving the car to be silent, except the music.

  He felt inwardly stupid. Maybe he mistook nervousness for his earlier comfort, or the joke threw him off so he didn’t catch it. Either way Jeremy felt bad about his reaction and decided to focus on his surroundings instead. The floor under his feet had a fast food receipt pinned under an abandoned copy of ‘The Help’. A bookmark left nearly three quarters in.

  The dashboard was clean of anything. An air freshener hung from the rearview mirror. This time Jeremy could tell he was really comfortable in the passenger seat. When he looked outside- a rush of blurred memories came over him.

  The sidewalks and yards. The shapes of houses that had barely changed. Grass and trees and plants. Michael and Jeremy walking to the other’s house and talking. Running between when one was sick. Sneaking through windows and backdoors in the middle of the night. Walking to the bus stop, to school, to Jenna’s. Sometimes even to Jake’s if they had scooters or roller skates.

  Michael turned out of the neighbourhood and headed towards town. “I thought Jenna’s house was back there?”

“She moved,” Michael answered. Jeremy went back to the window. Staring at the colours and shapes of the buildings passing the car. People walking by with umbrellas or hoods, running errands or walking to their cars. A mother held her child’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk. The kid jumping in nearly every puddle they could without letting go. It had been forever since Jeremy saw someone so young, and the kid had to be at least ten. He smiled warmly even though the AC was freezing his bare arms.

  When Michael parked the car and turned it off, Jeremy unclicked the seatbelt and got out. Michael got out and pulled his hood over his hair. Hopping onto the curb, stuffing his keys in his pocket, and using his free hand to hover behind Jeremy’s shoulder. Silently guiding the way to Jenna’s place.

  They walked in silence. Jeremy felt tempted to fidget with his hands, but settled in stuffing his thumbs in his front pockets. Letting a grin come over his face as he did. He was so happy to have pockets again. Or to be wearing jeans in the first place if he was honest.

  The air around him smelled of fresh rain and cold March air. As they walked up to the apartment building- Michael stopped in front of the covered entrance to text Jenna and most likely ask which floor she was on. Jeremy stood just outside of the cover and enjoyed the drops of water. As they waited, Jeremy looked around the sidewalk and street. Turning in slow circles and looking up at the city that had only grown taller since he left.

  There was shouting from down the street that caught Jeremy’s attention. An argument had broken out between two children, resulting in the screaming match- one was complaining about the other splashing them with water. A man and a woman, perhaps their parents, were attempting to separate them. Jeremy assumed he zoned listening it- as Michael had to lightly tug on his sleeve to snap him out of it and get him inside.

  Jeremy had jerked back harder than either he or Michael expected- and it showed on Michael’s face that he was starting to worry. The walk upstairs, to the sixth floor, was silent.

  As Michael knocked on the front door, Jeremy took to looking around the hallway. Stuffing his thumbs in his pockets once again while Michael gripped his cellphone in his hoodie’s pockets. The door opened and Jeremy spotted a girl there. Shorter, brown hair tied back into a ponytail, and blue eyes practically shining when she spotted him. Jeremy couldn’t tell if it was Jenna or Chloe.

“Hey guys, been awhile,” the girl said, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorway with a warm smile. Michael shrugged and Jeremy simply tilted his head to the side. “Glad you’re back Jeremy, everyone’s already here so come on in-” she stepped back and held the door open.

“Jenna can we talk for a sec,” Michael asked as Jeremy walked inside and passed the girl. He looked back at the two and Michael shot a fast smile at him. “School stuff, don’t worry.” Jeremy ventured farther into the apartment and stared at the living room while crossing his arms. Eyebrows raised at the scene.

  He just watched for a moment. Glancing at Jake- and who he assumed was Chloe- who sat stiffly on the couch. The two stared back at him while Jeremy watched the three winged teenagers on the floor. Sitting or lying in the pile of blankets and pillows with cats nearby. Rich was laughing at the cat that stood on Brooke’s shoulders, comparing it to a pirate’s parrot while Christine waved her arm at him to get him to quiet- focused more on the movie and the cat’s adventures. Jeremy felt himself smile at the peace.

  Rich glanced his way and then stared, smiling wider than before. “Look who’s Heere!” Brooke stifled a laugh behind her hand and Jeremy dramatically rolled his eyes and put a hand on his hip.

“Yeah Richie, I’m Heere.” Rich’s face soured.

“Don’t call me Richie.”

“Richie.”

“Jerry.”

“Richie stop pestering Jerry.”

“Brookie, I will if you stop calling me Richie.”

“How about all three of you stop calling eachother names and watch the movie?”

“Alright Chrissie, we’ll stop,” Rich groaned with a joking tone and a smile. Christine rolled her eyes and turned to look at the taller- who still stood and watched.

“What happened to your face!?” Christine gasped, getting up to gently poke at the darkening bruise on his face.

“I crashed into a tree and it beat me up.” Jeremy knew it was a half-lie, but the last thing he wanted was to tell her that Michael punched him. Although it was justified, Rich would have a fit and most likely serve the same thing (if not slightly worse) to Michael as payback.

“Fight the tree!” Rich shouted in the background, but was ignored.

“If it makes you feel any better your cheek looks way better than my eye,” Jake piped up from the couch. He was sporting a not-too-pretty black eye. Jeremy must’ve had the question on his face because Rich answered for him.

“He was too close when I woke up.”

  Jeremy nodded in a way that said he knew exactly what Rich said. And he did. Waking up Rich after a stressful test or suddenly knocked out after trouble didn’t work well. If someone he didn’t know or disliked was too close when he did wake up- let’s just say he got in even more trouble than before. Christine frowned.

“You aren’t hurt anywhere else are you?” Jeremy shook his head.

“Just bruised and sore.”

“Good! Now come sit, we’re watching Heathers.” Christine drug him by the wrist to the pallet and sat him down. Jeremy sat on the far edge of the group, criss-crossed and straight backed. Michael and Jenna were whispering quietly at the door.

 

\---

 

  The front door closed and Jenna led Michael into the living room once their conversation was over. She sat on the near end of the couch and Michael stared at the other occupants of the room before taking his own seat at the far end.

  The coffee table was moved out and to the side to make space for a large, comfortable looking pallet on the ground. On it were the four.

  Brooke was leaning her back against the front of the couch with a cat laying across her shoulders. Blue wings folded neatly at her sides. Jeremy was sitting criss-cross as a cat came up and sniffed his arm, he was staring at it with both a mixture of nervousness and admiration. Christine was also leaning on the couch, closer to Jenna, with Rich between them. He was laying on his stomach and slowly kicking his feet in the air, chin resting on a small pillow as he stared at the actors.

  Michael couldn’t help but notice the scars on Brooke’s neck, or the burns that covered the tops of Rich’s every limb. Or the eerily perfect or close-to-perfect posture all of the four had in one way or another. He forced himself to ignore it in order to pay attention to the movie. It was already halfway through, so he was missing some of the story. But the room had settled into a tense peace.

  Most of that tension was between the four on the couches. It had been a long while since all four of them were willingly in a room together that wasn’t for a school-function. All the years apart had both physically and mentally changed them. Their interests, life events, styles. Nothing connected as far as any of them knew, and there were a good many things they kept to themselves. Like Jenna moving, or Michael’s dad leaving. The other sources of their tension also sat on the floor with three cats.

  Michael caught Rich constantly glancing back at Brooke or Jeremy. Trying to be sly. Which made him wonder if any of them were crushing on each other. Jeremy used to have a hardcore crush on Christine- but there didn’t seem to be any sign of it now. Michael also noted Jeremy picking at the bandaids without looking at them. Christine was methodically petting the cat or messing with its long fur. Brooke was braiding and unbraiding a thin lock of hair repeatedly. They all looked at peace in their own little world on the floor.

  At some point, near the end of the movie, Jeremy had removed the sweatshirt and unfolded his wings. Stretching across the pallet like Rich, hugging a pillow, and ultimately ending up with a cat settled right between his wings. The movie was over faster than Michael expected after that and Jenna paused the credits as they rolled. She leaned back and dropped the DVD remote onto the arm of the couch.

“We need to talk basics,” she said, looking at all the faces that either tried, or looked directly at her.

“Alright, let’s talk.” Christine had turned to look at her. Jeremy turned his head and Brooke did her best to look back and not disturb the cat. Rich simply sat up and turned around.

“Where are they going to stay during the week? Hopefully somewhere they won’t be found out,” Jenna started. Moments of silence passed before Jake shrugged.

“My parents aren’t gonna be home anytime soon. There’s tons of space and spare rooms so if we pick up some air mattresses and extra blankets they can stay there.”

“What happened to your parents?” Brooke asked, Jake hid a hurt expression behind another shrug.

“Got caught laundering. They’re running from the law right now.”

“Oh.”

“Alrighty… next on the list-” Jenna pulled up a note document on her phone, “clothing. What will we do about clothing.”

“We could go Goodwill shopping and experiment with altering the backs so they’re comfortable.” Chloe didn’t look up from her painted nails as she spoke. Thus missing the smile Brooke shot in her direction.

“Why Goodwill?” Michael asked. There wasn’t a problem with Goodwill- hell his favourite hoodie came from there- it was cheap and had a lot of nice clothes and cassettes. But he didn’t expect Chloe, fashionista extraordinaire, to suggest it.

“Uhm, it’s cheap?” Chloe said matter-of-factly, “and if we mess up we wouldn’t have dropped twenty bucks on a piece of fabric? Jeez, use your head.” Chloe shook her head and gently held her temples with one hand. Like she hand a hangover and the headache was starting to creep up again.

“You and I need to sit and go over that later. Alright next- is there anything you four need to avoid? Like seriously need to stay away from or things we shouldn’t do?”

“Keep Sebastian away and I’m golden,” Rich joked, but it didn’t really sound like one. Christine rolled her eyes at him and Michael saw Jeremy frown.

“We don’t know everything, but we know some. Dogs of all kinds are a no. Rich needs to stay away from active flames. Brooke and Jeremy shouldn’t be left on their own for longer than an hour without distraction or previous knowledge. No loud noises, sudden touching, small spaces,” Christine said while ticking things off on her fingers.

“Waking us up suddenly!” Rich interrupted.

”Physical wing restraints?” Brooke said quietly.

“Large crowds.” Jeremy added.

“Guns?” said Christine.

“Pools,” Rich continued.

“Needles.”

  The word made Jeremy and Rich flinch. “Definitely needles,” Rich mumbled, rubbing the inside of his arm. Over a small scattering of pinpoint scars.

  Jenna was quickly typing the list into her phone. “The list is bound to get longer over time,” Christine added, rubbing her arm, “but just expect random things to pop up.”

“Got it. Alright so the last thing I wrote down was if we should involve David or not. Tell him that Jeremy and the others are back in town.”

  Jeremy’s face brightened while Chloe’s soured.

“I think we shou-“

“We shouldn’t,” Chloe interrupted while crossing her arms. A frown set on her face as she looked from Jenna to Jeremy. Her tone sounded like she was annoyed and repeating herself. “The guy is happy where he is. He’s over it. Let the man live his life in the now.”

  It was Michael’s turn to frown. “He can’t  ‘ _be_ _over it‘._  You don’t just magically get over losing a family member- let alone your _only son_.” Chloe only rolled her eyes.

“Everyone thinks they ran away to Canada or whatever. And unless David knows anything about this wing shit, he thinks so too. Why bother him with the past? He has a new wife and kid now, he has a brand new life without struggle.”

“He’s my dad, though,” Jeremy softly interjected, “and he loved… _loves_ all of us. He should know we’re alive. Besides, you all are being bothered by the past right now. Why can’t we bring him into this, too?”

  Everyone stared at Jeremy and let the room go quiet. Michael was trying to figure out an answer- or at least objection to being bothered by his friends’ return. Nothing came though.

“How about this: we save the topic for later and just focus on getting everyone settled. It’s the first day, we don’t need to do everything right away.” Jake’s voice was surprisingly calm despite the anger that felt like it was weight down the air between Chloe and Michael. Chloe huffed and crossed her arms and Michael shrugged in agreement.

“Sounds good. Hm. That’s all I got so… what now?” Jenna clicked her phone into sleep mode and set it down. More silence.

“Movies?” Rich said as another cat climbed onto Jeremy and laid on the back of his knees.

“Movies!!” Christine echoed, clapping her hands together excitedly. Jenna smiled widely and got up.

“Then let’s see what we got to marathon,” she said. Rich and Christine got up and followed to look at the bookshelf.

  Michael looked down at Jeremy- who rested his chin in his hands and stared after the three friends. Jeremy looked calm and at least semi-content on the floor. The brown haired boy twitched and looked back at Michael quickly. Most likely feeling his stare. Jeremy smiled at him briefly before the final cat jumped off Brooke’s shoulders and walked in front of his face. Begging for the winged boy’s undying attention. Brooke laughed.

 

  
    **Things felt okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly unedited and just typed up today. I felt like y’all needed an update and the kids should start being happy since 2017 backflipped into Annual Spoopy Mode™. So yay!!! The babes are happy!! Hope you enjoyed, if there are errors please tell me, and get ready for some more awkward fluff because I’m not that great at it!


	10. If near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two boys talk. A good morning happens. A trip to the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I'm not all that happy with this chapter? Like- I dunno. It felt plain and someone was off though I'm not sure who. But eh, it's getting through set-up and soon- actual drama. That'll be so much easier to write. Anyways, enjoy!

  The eight had sat back in the living room and binged on movies the rest of the day. Chloe had called her parents at some point to let them know she was at Jenna’s house to do a project, and would stay the night at her place until Sunday. Jake, Jenna, and Michael pulled loose cash for pizza, and nearly every teenager had passed out during Mary Poppins at around midnight.

  There was a comfortable peace in the apartment, Rich had thought from his place on the floor. Leaning against the side of the couch that Jake slept on and watching over the room that was cast in the light from the TV, which had the menu screen on constant loop. Waiting to be played.

  He had been dozing between sleep and consciousness when he woke up due to a dog barking somewhere downstairs. The temporary panic had kept him from going back to that drowsy state so soon, and so he sat in semi-darkness. Observing his first _real_ night in his home town. The clock on the stove read three AM. Rich went back to looking at the sleeping forms around him.

  Michael had made his way onto the pallet shortly before being the third person to properly pass out. Now being shielded from view by one of Jeremy’s unfolded wings. The red-framed glasses were folded and sat on the ground not far away from his head. Chloe shared the other couch with Jenna, both sharing a large duvet. A cat lying between the edge of the sofa and Jenna’s chest. Christine was curled on her side not far from Rich’s spot. Brooke laying on her other side, facing away from Rich, between Christine and Michael. Jeremy laid on his stomach with a cat still between his shoulders. The other cat was curled under his wing between his side and Michael.

  Rich was contemplating getting up and turning the TV off so he could go back to sleep in darkness, when he heard a small whimper from the other side of the room. Another silent moment passed before there was a sharp intake of air and Jeremy had jumped up. Causing the cat on his back to leap up and run towards the kitchen. The other jumped as Jeremy supported his torso with his arms. The eldest boy was looking around the room like there was supposed to be a fire nearby. Eyes wild and scanning everything around him.

  Then he made eye contact with Rich and visibly calmed down.

“Nightmare?” Rich whispered. Jeremy moved so he sat back on his legs, nodding as he pulled a blanket to cover Michael in absence of his wing. “Wanna talk outside?” Rich added, nodding towards the front door.

  Jeremy had quickly nodded and stood up, grabbing his jacket as he walked towards the door on silent feet. Rich grabbed his tank top and Jenna’s abandoned roof keys (conveniently labeled for Jenna’s ease), and followed as Jeremy silently unlocked the front door and slipped into the hall. Rich had folded his wings and was pulling on his tanktop as he practically bounced up the steps and threw open the door to the rooftop once he unlocked it.

  It had stopped raining hour ago, and the two had sat on the somewhat damp swinging chair in silence. The night was clear, minus the wisps of clouds leftover from the storm. The swing creaked quietly around old rust, and the only other sound was the city still moving below them.

“Wanna talk about it?” Rich asked after he had enough of staying quiet. Jeremy shook his head and gripped the edge of the seat. Staring up at the light-polluted sky. “Alright… so, it’s officially March seventh. How was your birthday?” Jeremy weakly smiled and looked from the sky to his feet.

“Better than all others.” Rich was the one smiling this time, kicking his legs back and forth while Jeremy methodically pushed the swing with his heels.

“I can’t wait for mine. It’s gonna be awesome!”

“I bet. Think you’ll have cake?”

“Only the best!”

“And what counts as ‘the best cake’ in your world?”

“Chocolate, for sure.” Jeremy laughed and Rich only grinned wider. Feeling accomplished to make a friend laugh. Then it was quiet again. Rich’s smile faded, along with his happy tone. “What’s up Jere?”

“Nothing!’ Jeremy said all too quickly, “Everything is fine! We’re here. With our friends and in clothing and somewhere warm and- and we ate pizza! At seven o’clock! What could be wrong?”

“I know when you’re lying, dude. So, _what’s up_?”

  Jeremy sighed and picked at the useless bandaid again. Rich waited patiently for the answer. It was easy for him to tell when something was wrong with one of the others in his group. He even knew when something was more than just a nightmare. He had been through a _lot_ with Christine since he woke up in the lab, and even more so when Jeremy and Brooke joined them in the Centre. Roch would’ve been an oblivious _fool_ to not be able to tell when something was bothering the others. And vice versa.

“Was it the nightmare?” Jeremy nodded, “can you tell me?”

“I was just back… _there_. And it was just Sebastian and Nancy saying all their usual bullshit. And then there were dogs and... I woke up.”

“That’s it?”

“That was the dream, yeah.”

“Anything else bothering you?”

“Maybe…”

“Care to elaborate?”

   The silence had returned and Rich waited, once again, for the answer. The quiet was over much sooner.

“Do… do you think it’s going to work out?” 

“What do you mean?” Rich was looking at Jeremy. Jeremy still looked at his hands, refusing to make eye contact.

“Like… work out here. I mean we’ve been gone for a long time. And we’ve been through a lot and we’ve changed a lot and just… what if they don’t want us here? Like _really_ want us here?”

“You mean Michael and the others, yeah?”

  Jeremy nodded and continued, “what if the only reason that they’re smiling and being so nice to us is because we’re here and it’s just shock? And what if once the shock wears off- they really see us. Like- _us_ us? The kids with wings. Inhuman experiments. Monsters. Mutants. _Things._  I don’t even know _what_ we are, but we’re just not _right._ And what if they see that and realize we aren’t who we were and they call a zoo or the government or Nancy or someone to take us away? They won’t want us back. I mean they got over us once, who’s to say they can’t do it again? We’re pretty much old memories and- and we’re just old times no one can get back and- even being here is reminding me that we aren’t normal and we aren’t ever going to _be_ normal and-” Jeremy was starting to panic.

  Rich turned and put his gently put hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy had dug his hands through his hair and gripped at it tightly, but when Rich touched him he flinched and looked over. Eyes starting to turn red and slightly puffy. “Relax, dude. It’s all good.” They sat like that for a few minutes while Jeremy got himself to calm down enough to let his hair go. Setting his hands limply on his lap. Rich continued when he looked calmer.

“Don’t let those lies that Nancy and Sebastian and those bastard scientists force-fed us get to you. You’re not ‘inhuman’, not a monster or a ‘thing’. You’re a living, breathing human being who got on the wrong side of the stick  because people are paid to ignore what’s right and wrong. And _want us_? Jeremy, if anyone didn’t want us here why do you think we’re on Jenna’s rooftop right now? Why do you think they didn’t kick us to the curb or leave us in the dirt as soon as we said our names?”

   Jeremy shrugged.

“Exactly! Don’t let those jerks get to you. They say shit to discourage any of us from escaping and exposing their crimes. But look at us now!” Rich had gotten up and put his hands on his hips, looking down at the boy who only looked back with wide eyes. “Those assholes are thousands of miles away. We escaped, we’re free, and _nothing_ can stop us from _finally_ living our lives. Not as subjects underground, but as people above ground,” Rich put on a wide smile, “it’s not gonna be easy, but we’re gonna do it.”

  Jeremy laughed a single note before hiding a small smile behind his hand. “That was cheesy.”

“It cheered you up, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“And Jere,” Rich’s expression was more sympathetic and comforting than earlier, “you should know that you shouldn’t hide what’s wrong. We’re here to work through it all. Maybe someday we can trust Michael or Jenna with these things too.”

“You don’t trust them?”

“Not wholeheartedly, at least not yet. You?”

“Same, kinda.”

“It’s hard,” Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Rich, who looked at the sky as he spoke, “it’s been us four for a while. And even though we’ve known them for a lone time I can’t trust them anymore.”

“Not yet.”

“Yeah, not yet.”

  Silence blanketed them and Rich started thinking. It had already been a day and nerves were showing themselves. It made him wonder what kind of problems would surface in the future. Considering all the things he feared that he couldn’t currently count one his hands withoit running out of fingers- there could be a lot more. Which was a scary thought by itself.

 Then he thought about their recent freedom. They really were free from that place. But that was it. They had always had the plan for escape, and theories for what they wanted afterward. But all of those only summed up to seeing everyone and the only person they hadn’t seen yet was David. Nothing else had come to mind. There was no plan. No forward thinking or things to expect. They were free styling everything and it didn’t sit quite right.

  Rich was itching to move, to not sit around watching movies all day even though it was fun. He wanted to get up and see as many things as possible, to fly again, to learn and experience his surroundings. He basically wanted to have a life.

“You think they’ll let us borrow some books?”

“Why do you want books?”

  Rich turned around, “because I want to read, obviously. It’s been forever since I’ve read something that didn’t record my basic intelligence.”

“True. I dunno. Maybe?”

“I hope so.”

“.... what now?”

“You cool to go back to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

 

\---

 

  The morning felt warm and kind of fuzzy. Michael lazily opened his eyes for two seconds before closing them again. Curling more underneath the two blankets he was under, although the top one was unnaturally stiff. Michael brushed against someone’s arm, but didn't really care.

   That is, he didn’t care until a few moments later when everything had processed, patting the ground for his glasses. He found them and slipped them onto his face. Looking around and spotting the sleeping Jeremy beside him. The boy’s left wing was tightly folded against his side, the right one partially open to cover Michael.

    Jeremy was laying on his stomach with his arms crossed. Squished between his cheek and arms was a throw pillow and a blanket had been kicked around his legs. A cat curled up on his back and another squished between the two boys under the wing. Jeremy looked so peaceful and calm that Michael didn’t know if he should get up and bother him or go back to sleep.

“If you wake that kid up I’m throwing Jake’s shoe at you.”

    Michael turned his head to see a sleepy Chloe laying on the couch. Half cocooned in a dark red blanket, with a pillow folded against the arm of the couch, and scrolling through her phone with one hand. The other hung over the side of the couch and loosely held a remote. The final cat lay stretched on her torso, comfortably asleep reaching for her face.

“Fine,” Michael huffed, reaching for his phone that had been set next to his glasses. He unlocked it and scrolled through tumblr. Past gaming and photography blogs alike. Just then noticing Mary Poppins playing on the screen and a very low volume. Chloe had put her phone down and absently watched it. 

    It was almost ten AM and Michael was sure some of them would start waking up soon. 

“This is weird.” Said Chloe in a quiet voice, Like she was afraid to disturb anyone but needed to fill some weird silence that the movie didn’t cover.

“What is?” Michael said back in the same tone.

“This.” Michael didn’t need to look back to know she gestured to the ceiling before combing her hand through her hair. “it’s like we just had a big sleepover.”

“We _did_ just have a big sleepover.”

“No-well, yeah but no. It feels like we’re kids again and not Juniors in highschool.” Michael thought on her words for a moment. The movie, the blanket pallet, the mere layout of kids on the floor asleep. How the room just _felt_ like a post-sleepover morning in Jenna’s living room. He could see where Chloe was coming from. “It’s like four missing kids didn’t just _waltz_ back into our lives yesterday.”

“If you wanna be specific we didn’t _walt_ , we _fell_ ,” said Brooke as she yawned. Sitting back on her knees and rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm. Wings open and sitting lazily at her sides. Her eyes then scanning over the room briefly.

“Morning Brooke,” Michael said as he caught her yawm and copied it. Covering his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Mornin’” Brooke answered, turning her attention to the TV. Watching the people of the Hanks household be changed by the one and only Mary Poppins. Michael watched her from the corner of his eye whenever he wasn’t scrolling through his phone. She looked entranced by the music that had just started playing, seeing any of them that way felt… off to him. Jeremy shifted in his sleep and folded his wing closer to himself. Leaving Michael oddly less warm without the feathers for comfort.

“How’d you sleep?” Chloe asked with her own yawm. Brooke turned and Michael would just tell she was wearing a lazy smile. 

“Better than I have in _years_.”

“Why’s that?” asked Michael, locking his phone and setting it face down on the pile of blankets. “You were sleeping on blankets not even an inch away from the floor.” 

  Brooke turned to look at him this time. “It’s a step up from the Centre and the cave’s we’ve slept in the past week.”

“You slept in _caves_?” Michael asked, remembering to stay quiet only thanks to Chloe’s glare.

“It’s not like we had any money for a hotel.”

“What’s so bad about the Centre?” Chloe said.

“No blankets. The pillows were pretty much limp cotton paper, and the beds were metal slabs sticking out of the wall.”

“Metal… slabs.” Chloe echoed.

“Mhm. Think prison beds, covered in thin outdoor furniture cushions.”

“That legit sucks,” Michael said.

“It did! But I can’t wait to like- sleep on another couch or an actual bed or something just super soft.”

  Chloe looked at Brooke with an emotion he couldn’t name but also felt. Confusion? Wonder? Low-Key shock? He didn’t know. Brooke turned to sit criss-cross between him and Chloe so all she had to do was turn her head. She hugged a fluffed pillow to her chest. Bright eyed and excited. 

“What are we doing today?” She said excitedly. Her previous sleepiness disappeared and it looked like she had forgotten about the sleeping bodies of her friends surrounding her.

“It you’re all up for it Goodwill is pretty calm on Sundays. We can spend the day shopping for necessities and setting up-shop.” Chloe’s answer was interrupted by a yawn halfway through, but it was still quiet.

“Fun!” Brooke chirped with a genuine cheery tone.

  Christine groaned from the ground and lazily lifted her arm to rest it on Brooke’s knee. Getting her attention. “Brooke, sweetie, I love you like family. I really do. But I also love sleep like a mistress to _please_ let me get back to her.”

  Brooke smiled and pat Christine’s head, which was buried face-first into a pillow. Allowing the other to drift back into dreamland. Michael lifted himself up on his elbows to continue watching the movie.

“What the hell is on TV,” Jake groaned from his spot on the couch. Where he had laid on his back the whole time. An arm draped over his eyes. Michael wondered how he could do it.

“Quality programing.” Michael had answered. Getting Christine to wave her hand in a ‘be quiet’ gesture in his direction. Brooke laughed softly from behind her hand.

  Michael then had a better understand of what Chloe was talking about earlier. Everything was so casual, so calm. Like nothing bad had ever happened. Like they never changed. Like they were never separated by force or choice. It was strange how easily they fell into their old places. It scared Michael.

 

\---

 

   Jeremy woke up to the sound of  speaking and the feeling of someone next to him. It took another moment to process and name them as the TV and Michael. Blinking away sleep and looking to his right, he did, in fact, see Michael propped on his elbows watching the movie. The taller boy was dressed in the jeans and red hoodie from the day before and was laying under the blanket he had laid over him before going outside hours earlier. The light in the room was warm and brought a calmness that Jeremy couldn’t describe.

   He lay with his cheek squished by the pillow, quietly watching Michael and then a happy Brooke. Christine had one arm bent over Brooke’s leg and her face buried in a pile of small pillows. Rich was _out_ beside her. Taking up the space before Jake’s couch and pretty much preventing the other boy from getting up.

   The room was fuzzy and Jeremy was at peace. A lazy smile crossing his face as he looked the group over. He really was there with everyone. The conversation with Rich earlier came to mind. The mean words of Sebastian and Nancy mixed with Rich’s rather cheesy encouragement. Even though the answer to his question was obvious- and he knew better than to question his own physical humanity- he had to wonder who was _really_ right. Were they monsters or humans?

   The train of thought was broken when Brooke looked over and smiled. “How’d you sleep?” she asked. Michael turned to look at the now-awake Jeremy.

“I slept fine.”

“Kinda fitful if you ask me,” Michael said rubbing his arm. “You have boney elbows.”

   Jeremy’s response was to wiggle his arms like a bird’s without moving the pillow they were crossed under. “Yep” Michael smiled. Jeremy noticed his arms were _seriously_ asleep and shifted to get the blood moving.

“I don’t have enough food to feed so many teenagers without having to go shopping later,” Jenna’s voice said from the couch. She was looking at the phone held away from her face. She glanced over to the people on the floor. “Burger King pankcakes. Only offer.”

“Why not McDonalds?” Jake said, rubbing his face and taking in a sharp breath of air.

“I will not allow anyone sitting under this roof to eat as such a greasy factory.”

“All fast food places are grease factories, Jenna.” Jake finally removed his hand from his face and tilted his head up. Looking at Jenna upside down over the side of the couch. Jenna huffed.

“True- but I don’t support the double arches. The King of Burgers runs this house.”

“Down with the bourgeoisie! Revolution! The Arcs rule us all!” Jake said, accidentally forgetting about the two sleeping people left in the room. Throwing a fist in the air as he rolled on his side. Christine lazily lifted the arm not on Brooke’s knee into the air.

“Viva la révolution” she muttered quietly. Jeremy hid a laugh behind his hand as his shoulders shook. Michael glanced at him with an amused smile.

“Did she just quote Les Mis?” Chloe asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You can take the theatre kid from the theater but you can’t take the theatre out of the theatre kid.” Rich said, unmoving on the floor. When Jake moved to sit up, Rich refused to move.

“Rich, can you let me up?” Jake asked with a sigh. Rich turned slightly on his side and smiled cheekily up at him. Sleep still in his eyes. 

“No.”

“ _Please_.”

“Make me, tall ass.”

  Christine waved the arm still in the air in a small circle before letting it fall on Rich’s leg. Her open palm hitting his calf with a loud _SLAP_. He yelped, flipped on his back and pushed away from the girl. Yelling a needed “The _FUCK_?” As he did. Jake took the chance to stand and stretch, cracking his back as he did so. Jenna flinched at the sound.

“Be nice, Richie. It’s still early.”

“That hurt!” Rich whined, sitting up and rubbing his ‘injured’ leg. 

“Manners are good.” Christine pulled herself off the floor and sat back on her legs. Yawning.

“Then get some of your own!” Rich argued back.

“Richie, be nice to Mom friend Christine,” said Brooke.

“I refuse!” Jeremy’s silent laughter on the floor got worse as the events unfolded, and in that second took in an audible breath of air. Catching Rich’s attention.“What are you laughing at!?” Rich nearly yelled, making Jeremy try to calm his quiet laughter.

“That was just super funny.” he wheezed. Rich’s face went red, but a form of entertained tone lie underneath his words..

“No it’s not! She hit me!” Jeremy’s only response was to nod a few times and put his forehead on the ground. Continuing to laugh to himself. Michael watched the exchange, much like everyone else, in amusement.

- 

   Not much longer after that- everyone was awake and mostly freshened up for the day. Brooke was given jeans to wear instead of shorts and both winged girls got jackets to hide their backs. Having piled between Jake’s four person truck and Michael’s cruiser- they headed off to get their errands done and go to Jake’s house. The girls in Jake’s truck, with Chloe being the only one trusted enough to drive it, and the boys in Michael’s car.

   Jeremy had taken the passenger seat again and messed with the drawstrings on the hoodie absent mindedly. It was still too big on him- but that made it more comfortable. Rich was bouncing in his seat and Jake was sneaking glances to both him and Jeremy between looking outside of the window. Jeremy could easily see this from the side mirror’s reflection.

   It felt off knowing that Rich, and the others, were constantly getting glances from Michael, Jake, Jenna, or Chloe. Understandable, yes, they were gone for a long time. But after a few days of no surveillance and living a week without any prying eyes, it was strange to have people indirectly-but-actively watching them again.

“Food, food, food,” Rich was whispering under his breath. It was soft, but Jeremy easily heard it.

“Rich, is all you think about food?” Jeremy asked as he turned to look at the teenager behind Michael’s seat, an amused smile on his face. Rich rolled his eyes.

“Obviously. We’re talking _pancakes_ , Jeremy. _Pan. Cakes._ Aren’t you excited?”

“Yeah, I’m excited. I mean, I don’t think I really liked pancakes before. Pretty sure it’s because syrup is too sweet. But I’m not literally bouncing in my seat just to have them.” Jeremy sat forward again.

“Well you should! Pancakes are the _best_. Sometimes dad would make them for Roger and I- uhm... once every blue moon, I think the saying goes? He’d put like chocolate chips in them or something. Super good.”

“Dad used to make these apple things in the morning. And sometimes during… uhm… I think it was- Passover… he’d make them with cheese. I don’t remember what they were called though.”

“Blintzes. And they were good,” Michael got strange looks from the interjection. He shrugged it off. “What? For how often I snuck over I’d be damned if I didn’t at least _know_ of them.” 

“I’m surprised you remembered,” Jeremy muttered while Jake laughed.

“You _snuck over_? To _Jeremy’s house_?” Michael glanced in the rearview mirror with burning eyes. Looking directly at Jake. “I mean I’d do the same, but how long?” Jake recovered and had lightened his tone somewhat in response to the look.

“I did it since we were seven.” Michael lightened his tone only slightly. It sounded fake to Jeremy’s ears. He felt the tension in the air between the two.

“So Nancy was there? Had to be tricky- knowing her and her security paranoia.” Jake said.

   Michael scoffed, almost proudly. “The trick was the back fence and the rose bushes. The light didn’t go off if you pushed this loose board behind the white rose bush in the side. And if you skirted along the back between them you were golden.”

   Jeremy smiled in Michael’s direction before looking out the side window. Getting lost in the shapes of people and muffled sounds of cars and life behind the glass. Rich kept softly bouncing in his seat, but stopped his quiet mutterings of the word ‘food’. That is, until the drive-thru was in sight. Then it was just the matter of getting Rich to stop saying ‘the fuck is _that_ ’ at oddly named food long enough for Michael to _actually_ order breakfast.

 

\---

 

   Of course, things can’t be going well all the time.

   In the end- the eight were gathered at a park table to eat breakfast in nature and peace. Away from anyone who could overhear any strange conversation.

   This is if there _was_ any. Jeremy, Rich, Christine, and Brooke ate in relative silence. Eating quickly, but not messily, like there was a timer they had to beat or they’d never eat again. Jake cast worried looks to Chloe, Jenna, and Michael. Who looked equally off-put by the silence. Chloe was the one who mentioned it once all of them were nearly done.

“Are you eatting or vaccuming?”

   The joking tone sounded a bit hard to Jake, but it got the four to stop and look over at her. Christine had put a hand over her mouth for a moment before taking it away and responding. As if snapped from some trance.

“Sorry, habit just takes over.” She had laughed but there wasn’t any humor to it. It was dismissive and meant to make whatever habit they had seem like it was a good thing. It didn’t work all that well.

“Habit?” Jake said with a raised eyebrow. Speaking around half a mouth full of fries and getting an short glare from Chloe for it. Christine shrugged.

“I mentioned it the other day. With the food?” Rich said. 

“Ah,” Jake started, with an empty mouth, “you mentioned that the food was shit. Not anything else.” Rich nodded once in understanding. 

   Jake saw Rich exchange a quick look with every other winged kid at the table. As if having a half-second conference to decide what to say. It make him wonder if the four were psychic.

“We were timed. All of us pretty much lived on a schedule that was set up to the nano-second.it rarely changed. We had fifteen minutes to eat for breakfast or dinner.” Rich explained. He got nods in response.

“How did it change?” Jenna got looks. “What? I’m curious.” 

   Jeremy stabbed the bottom of his cup with his straw a few times before answering. “If someone was hurt they’d factor in time for them to get better. Same thing with the rare times someone got sick. But… actually now that I think about it these were pre-planned, either way there was a change once or twice a month in the evenings or during the day. Depending on how they scheduled it.”

“What were they for?”

“... Upgrades.” Jeremy’s voice was quiet and the tone was harsh. As if it pained or disgusted him to remember, and he simply wanted to subject to be closed and locked away forever.

“What are-” 

“Topic change! Hobbies! I know you all have some!” Rich said a bit too loudly. Holding his chin in his hands. Jeremy gave him a thankful look before looking over at Jake. Who looked back in thought. 

“I like journalism. Or just information gathering in general. Hope to make it into a career one day.” Said Jenna,

“I do sports. Like, a _lot_ of sports.” Jake was practically beaming with pride at the statement. 

“I’m into fashion and stuff,” Chloe shrugged, more focused on finishing her soda than coming up with a different answer.

“I usually play video games and do photography,” Michael watched Jeremy perk up at the statement.

“I saw some of your photos on the wall yesterday, they were pretty good.” Michael smiled back at him.

“What about you?” Jake said absentmindedly while poking his empty container with his fork. Before he could remember the situation they were once in Christine answered.

   With a serious face she turned to them and said “Show tunes.”

   Rich grinned, “I’m an expert at pacing.”

   Jeremy shrugged, “I daydream sometimes.” Brooke followed with a simple ‘same’.

   Something in Jake twisted with the answers. They were so simple, hardly even hobbies just more like everyday things to fill a void in time. Did they not read? Draw? Play at least some sort of game? To keep conversation going he said-

“What do you mean show tunes are your hobby?” Rich groaned loudly, albeit playfully, while Brooke shook and her head and Jeremy did his silent laugh.

“We’ve been subjected to hours of solo shows from the one and only Christine Canigula. Ranging from parts of the famous Phantom of the Opera to the ever popular Les… uhm. Les… misanthrope? No wait- Les misssssa” Rich was struggling to remember the name of the show when Christine came to his rescue.

“Misérables.”

“Yeah the French history thing. She’s hum and use only a _few_ lyrics. And the songs were on repeat because she only knows like- four from each show. It’s a hobby that can be improved if I’m honest.” Rich finished. Jeremy now had a hand over his mouth and his shoulders were shaking with more of the oddly silent laughter. Brooke was smiling at the two as Christine huffed jokingly and shook her head.

 

\---

 

   Not long after all of them had finished eating, they got into the cars and adventured to the shopping district. Standing before a large Goodwill, with the rest of the strip mall making noise around him, Jeremy felt uneasy. Christine put a hand on his arm and nudged him towards the building, attempting to keep him with the rest of the group as they crossed the parking lot.

   The inside of the store was artificially cold and smelled faintly of dusty old objects and second-hand clothes. The bland walls, dull grey carpet, and the faint music in the background was somewhat calming. That and there were only two visible customers milling about. Rich, who was the third person to enter the store, had waited by the door for Jeremy to walk in. As soon as he did, Rich grabbed his arm and led him towards the shelves of books.

    Jeremy was smirking as they stopped. He could smell old pages from books from where he stood. It was a comforting smell that he didn’t want to leave. He zoned out reading the spines of the books as Rich pulled, skimmed, and put back a few. Rich was reaching for a book of mythology when something poked the back of Jeremy’s shoulder.

    The teen snapped to attention and spun on his heel too quickly to be dismissed as casual. Coming face to face with Michael, who only pulled his hand back slightly. “Clothes first,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of Jake who was browsing the racks of men’s jeans.

   Rich groaned but went anyways, Jeremy following behind. Michael stuffed his hands in his pocket. “So,” Jake said, reading over a text Jenna sent, “four pants, four shirts, a jacket, and a belt. Those are the basics we need here and we’ll see about anything extra when we total the price.” Jake put his phone away as Rich started flipping through hangers of pants.

“Cool,” he said. Not even a moment later he paused and looked up blankly over the racks. “I don’t know pant sizes.”

   Jeremy was first to respond with “same”.

“Should’ve expected this, alrighty here’s what you do.” Jake took a pair of jeans off a hanger and held them to his waist. “If the two sides of the waistband easily hit the middle of your hips on both sides, they fit. If they don’t then they don’t fit.” He looked at the waistband of the example pants. “See? These don’t fit, gotta put them back.”

“That sounds inaccurate,” Rich said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as Jake put the pants back on the hanger and put it away.

“What do you suggest we do, Mr.Accuracy?” Jake crossed his arms. Jeremy gestured to three dressing rooms in the back of the store.

“There’s changing booths over there.”

   Rich and Jake went silent. During the exchange Michael was idly flipping through donated slacks with his headphones on. Only one side pushed away from his ear. Though he wasn’t aiming on buying anything.

   It didn’t take long before the boys had pants draped over their arms and were looking at shirts. Jeremy was tall enough that he could easily see the girls looking around across the store. Seeing Brooke’s amazement at all the colours and Christine pulling different hangers off the rack to look at something before putting it back and switching to the next-best thing. They both looked mesmerised as Chloe and Jenna watched and put in their own input on the choices.

   Jake had disappeared to find a basket to put their clothing in. Rich was much more excited to look at shirts than pants, when he paid attention to the task, anyways. Looking at nearly everything with a grin. Constantly pulling a hanger off and holding the shirt up to Jeremy to show off a design or comment on the colour. Jeremy did the same back- once or twice they both switched to claim the other’s find. Which they were happy with.

   It took an hour and a half of trying on and looking to find clothes the four were comfortable with having on. It would’ve been easier if the winged teens weren’t distracted by the tiniest of things. An object on a shelf catch their eye? They immediately went to check it out. Even calling someone in the group over, or running to them with whatever was in their hands to show off what they found. Or they’d get caught up looking at just the colours of the sorted racks and zone out completely. Rich had even ended up back a few shelves of books that smelled of old paper, bringing Christine with him this time. It was difficult to get them to go back to clothes shopping. But they succeeded in the end.

   Jeremy had obtained simple blue jeans, a pair of brown jeans, a striped shirt, a black tee with a game controller, a blue v-neck, and a dark green sweater. Along with a soft-yet-heavy blue cardigan that he insisted on getting even though Chloe wasn’t a fan.

   Rich had taken a blue tanktop with an eye on the front, a black tanktop with the words I WORK OUT written on the front, a black t-shirt, and a red and blue flannel. Throwing a brown jacket into the mix with two jeans, a pair of khaki cargo shorts, and camo patterned pants. Which he also refused to take out of the basket, despite Chloe’s fashion expertise.

   Christine got a grey shirt that simply read ‘I’m fluent in show tunes’ on the front, a pale blue t-shirt, a long sleeved purple sweater, a somewhat flowy red shirt, a black skirt, some comfortable blue jeans, a pair of blue leggings, a denim jacket, and a dark blue dress covered in small white spots.

    Brooke grabbed some jeans, a blue t-shirt, a pale green blouse, a black shirt that read ‘free spirit’ in cursive, a green shirt that had a geometric pattern in the front, a rather nice light purple floral print dress, and a long yellow cardigan.

    Jake and Michael split the cart up and paid. Which would be cheaper for both pockets. The trip to Payless was easier, as there was less to get distracted by, but also a few extra people. Jeremy and Brooke stuck closer to people in their group than they did in Goodwill, which was better than either running off to persue some strange thing they hadn’t seen in forever. Something in Jeremy’s chest just felt wrong the longer he was around strangers.

 

  
      **If near empty stores were this frightening, Jeremy wondered if the Walmart was going to be okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me low-key angst or give me death. Or fluff. Either or my heart’s just g o n e. Anyways, weird trip to Walmart and dramaaa up next on your unregularlly scheduled fanfic. If there are any errors please point them out and I’ll fix it right up.


	11. Everything Felt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kids go shopping. Kids get shirts. Kids set up a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, it's been a while. I've mentioned senior year sucks and it's the truth. So many applications n' UGH. Enjoy your youth. That 'dramaaa' I promised this chapter was moved to the next one btw. It didn't fit the ending. So the chapter isn't as long as I would like but I'm not all that good at filler so... yeah. One last thing: I'm sorry if anyone is OOC. It's been a while since I've written anything about them. Enjoy!

 Walmart on a Sunday was full of people. Children hanging around their parents. People with handheld baskets talking loudly on their phones. Women in heels that walked like they were better than everyone. Somewhere in the distance a child was having a breakdown. Baskets with wonky wheels were pushed down aisles. A faulty fluorescent light in the hardware section flickered and blinked with a high pitched noise. Children were pressing the ‘try me’ button on seemingly every toy they could find. There was a white noise drone of people. It smelled like rubber tires, floor cleaner, plastic, old food from the deli, and people. Lots and lots of people.

 Walking inside, there was only a second of awe before all of these things attacked Brooke's senses. It was way too loud and she _hated_ it. Brooke’s mind went to try and name every sound she could so she could determine threats, before she was snapped back into reality by Christine.

“What’s happening?” She asked as the boys walked away. Jenna grabbed a basket and Chloe was typing a list out on her phone. Christine quietly explained that the group would split up to do their shopping and meet up outside in about an hour.

 Then the girls started their Walmart adventure to gather clothes and other basic essentials. That was when Jenna and Chloe discovered the true extent of Christine’s boundless energy, Especally now that there was more to look at. Brooke followed behind as Chloe or Jenna had to drag Christine away from a display every few minutes or had to keep her on task.

 It wasn’t until Christine was brought back an eighth time that she finally noticed Brooke’s _massive_ drop in activity. There was a passing look on her face akin to 'how the hell did I not notice this' before the mom-friend took action. As Chloe and Jenna led the way to who-knows-where Christine held back to walk beside her friend. In a whisper that Brooke heard with ease Christine asked, “You good?”

 Thankful Christine was understanding, Brooke shook her head. “It’s really loud in here,” She glanced around as a small family passed them by. One of the smaller kids sitting in the basket was staring at her neck. At least to her it felt like the child was staring at her neck. The scars were rather visible. She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck as she looked away. More self-conscious than ever. “And there’s too many people here.”

  Christine nodded and glanced at Chloe. “Wanna tell them?” She asked. Brooke shook her head quickly. Don’t get her wrong, she loved the others and was glad to be around them. But something told her that they just wouldn’t understand the extent of it just yet. It was only their second day back home. They had more complexities than the wingless four were led to believe. Brooke’s heightened hearing was one of them.

“Alright then we won’t.” Christine smiled the type of smile only a mom-friend could make. Calm, reassuring, and understanding. Brooke managed to smile back.

 Brooke was quiet the rest of the time they walked through the store. Putting in input when it came to being asked a question or something of the sort. Christine stopped wandering off to stick close to her, Instead she pointed out things that looked interesting in an attempt to distract the other from the noise.

   Everyone met up outside of the garden area after paying. Jeremy and Rich had walked up to the two. Jeremy looking extremely nervous and holding the sleeve his upper left arm in a death grip. Rich was slightly-off put. Brooke guessed they all weren’t exactly ready for a big crowd yet.

 

\----

 

“Your house hasn’t changed much,” said Christine while she walked up to the front door.Two plastic bags in each hand. Jake was balancing an air mattress box on his hip as he unlocked the front door.

“On the outside, anyways. Things got rearranged a while back.” Jake gently kicked the door open and grabbed the single plastic bag by his foot before going in. Christine following behind. Everyone brought in either a few bags, an air mattress, or carried pillows on their head. I.e., Rich carried the pillows on his head. Jake’s house didn’t have enough for everyone and refused to take some from his parents’ room. So they picked up two extras.

 It took one trip to drag everything inside and unceremoniously drop it on the living room floor. Things were separated out so each person got at _least_ one bag of individual things. Clothes and basics. Beside the table were three air mattress boxes, the two cheap pillows, and four somewhat heavy throw blankets. The air mattresses were thankfully on sale.

 Jake never really did have a backlog of pillows and blankets anymore. He had a guest room made up, sure, and even though he kept it clean and made no one ever really there to use it. And he made sure the doors to any bedroom were locked during parties. Guests all but stopped appearing after his parents hit the road. That and he donated a _lot_ of unused bedding and clothes once he figured out they weren’t coming back. So he was fairly unprepared to house four teenaged guests for who-knows-how-long.

 Not that he was complaining.

 Clothes were separated and the different assorted items were set aside. Things like: various packets of buttons, sewing pins, a pack of cheap white undershirts for practice, and a packet of sewing needles.

“You have a sewing machine, right?” Chloe asked as she cracked her knuckles. Ignoring Jenna’s slight flinch. Apparently she didn’t like the sound of popping joints.

 Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets as he thought. “Hmm. There’s probably one in the basement.”

“Can you go get it?” Chloe didn’t sound pushy, Jake almost expected her to.

“Sure.” Jake then left for the basement.

“Do you have any ideas for what you’re gonna do?” Rich asked as Brooke slipped off her jacket to let her wings loose.

“We have a few, yeah. Nothing’s draw up but eh.” Jenna shrugged as Jake walked back in. The sewing machine under one arm and a cookie tin in the other.

“I found a sewing kit,” he said as he put the machine down on the coffee table. Jenna opened the cookie tin.

“Let’s get started,” Jenna set the tin down and pulled up her notes app on her phone. Brooke sat on the arm of the couch next to her to ask about them.

 Michael was standing on the other side of the room. Hands in his pockets, leaning on the wall next to the kitchen door, and watching the others. Jake walked over and leaned on the wall beside him, arms crossed.

“What’s up, Mell?”

 Michael sighed and shrugged. “Nothing really. I’m just sort of… I dunno. Shell shocked?”

“About all this?” Jake gestured to the winged teens listening to Jenna explain the process she and Chloe had planned at Walmart and the drive to Jake’s house. Michael nodded.

“I never expected to see them again. Especially not with wings on their backs.”

“It’s really sci-fi if you ask me.”

“Yeah.” Michael gave a half-hearted chuckle. Jake tapped his foot for a moment before continuing.

“To be honest,” Michael looked over at Jake, “I didn’t think we’d all come together over this. We could’ve just kept them at home and try to sort it out without contacting each other. Maybe  we would’ve waited until it was too late or some comical meeting would happen.” Jake was staring at Rich as he spoke. Michael guessed it was true. They each had their own bubble at school that they inhabited all on their own. Chloe and Jake only slight exceptions.

  Brooke glanced back at them for a moment once Michael said that. Could she hear them talking? Chloe went to explain something else to Brooke and she turned back to listen. 

\----

 

 While Chloe and Jenna worked their magic practicing patterns on the white shirts in sharpie, Michael, Jake, Christine, and Rich went to set up the beds.

“You sure you don’t mind sharing a room? I could move stuff around and clear up the office or something,” Jake asked as they hauled the boxes and bedding upstairs.

“I’d prefer it for now, actually,” Christine started, “if only to keep an eye on everyone until they’re adjusted.”

“Agreed,” Rich chimed in. Jake unlocked the guest bedroom and opened the door. “Why’d you lock the door?”

“I lock the bedrooms during parties so people don’t sneak in and have sex.” Jake walked into the room and started a different conversation. Rich looked at Christine for a moment, she shrugged at him as an answer. Both had no idea what Jake had meant. “The room’s not very big but it has a lot of light. If you want we can take curtains from my parents room or something.”

 The room really wasn’t all that big and made for a perfect single guest room. It was at the end of the house, both exterior walls had a large window. A single twin sized bed was centered on the far wall with two white nightstands and lamps framing it. Even though it was unnecessary for the small bed. A dresser in the car corner.

 Rich and Jake moved everything around to fit four people. The dresser was now centered on the far wall. The bed pushed into the far left corner. A nightstand at the foot. The air mattresses were set up to fit snugly in the corners. Foot to foot with the nightstands between the beds. There was still plenty of room to move.

On the near wall, right beside the bed in the left corner was a door to the long closet. It was ignored for now.

 To both Michael and Jake’s surprise, Christine and Rich immediately left the room as soon as they started blowing up the mattresses. When it stopped Rich explained that the tiny vacuum was too loud. Questions were not asked.

 Christine, only through first claim, got the actual bed. Jeremy got the bed in the near left corner, Brooke in the near right, and Rich in the far right. Each kid got a blanket and a pillow. Christine had a dark green blanket, Jeremy got blue, Rich got a dark red, and Brooke got a soft yellow. Each their own choice.

 The four went downstairs again to see Jenna and Chloe finishing their experimental designs. The shirt had the front, sleeves, and collar untouched. The back was wide open, however. The space ended just about where their feathers stopped connecting to the kids’ backs and to the wing instead. Held closed by a zipper.

  Jeremy was the one to try it on first. It was comfortable, and it was strange wearing a shirt with his wings out. There was only one problem.

One of his smaller feathers got stuck in the zipper.

 The idea of using a zipper at all was completely dumped after the feather was freed and broken in the middle. Chloe presented hers. The collar, front, and sleeves were untouched and the back was still open, but instead of a zipper there were four buttons. Brooke went to go try it on while Jeremy sat on the floor to let Christine do something about the broken feather.

“Comfortable? Chloe asked as Brooke walked back in.

“Yeah! The back is only a bit high for my wings,” Brooke answered. Chloe got up to check the back, mark something with a pen, and take a photo for reference. Christine snapped the broken end off the feather and went about fixing the uneven mess of feathers on Jeremy’s back.

“What… are you doing?” Michael asked while sitting on the edge of the loveseat.

“Fixing his feathers. They’re messed up and that’s usually uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t ask you to-”

“You didn’t need to.” Christine’s tone stated the conversation was over. Michael heard Jake whisper 'mom' under his breath. Rich's almost burning glare went unnoticed by either of them. Brooke shot a look to Rich and he stopped. 

 

\----

 

 Time basically flew by after that. Each winged teen got one of their chosen shirts adjusted for their wings. At six o’clock everyone had to leave. Michael was the one to offer the girls’ rides home since he was the only other person with a car. Everything like the sewing machine and the sewing kit were moved to the dining room for space.

 It was seven o’clock that Jake had realized a big problem. Everyone was settled in the living room to watch some show that Jake wasn’t paying attention to. When he looked at the clock on his phone he hissed, “ _shit_.”

“What’s wrong?” Christine looked over, concern on her face.

“I have zero food for dinner.”

 Jake knew one thing about the house right now and that was the extreme lack of food. The kids drinking and smoking weed had certainly helped themselves and left only a carton of milk, three eggs, and an eggplant. Though Jake doesn’t remember ever buying one. He reminded himself to get a lock for next time.

“It’s fine Jake, we don’t-” Jeremy started.

“I’ll stop you right there. No one goes hungry under this roof.” Even though Jake was used to feeding only himself. Jake spent a moment to think of something last second and cheap to feed five people. Four of which had no food preferences beyond mashed potatoes, yoghurt, and oatmeal. As far as he knew, anyways. “I can run to the corner store and get TV dinners.”

“Just you?” Rich asked.

“It’d be faster. Any requests?” Jake asked as he stood up and went to go grab his jacket.

 

\----

 

 Not long after Jake was out the door and the truck left the driveway Christine muted the TV and sat on the floor. When everyone looked at her in confusion she folded her hands over the table and said, “Meeting.” Everyone situated in front of the table in moments after that.

“What do you guys think of this?” Christine asked.

“This as in ‘we’re here in Jake's house with clothes’ or as in ‘we’re here in general and not in Michigan’?” asked Jeremy.

“Jake’s house.”

“Then it’s pretty good.” Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah! We have beds, a roof, friends, and like- I dunno. It’s nice here. I feel safe,” Brooke added with a smile.

Christine nodded and then looked at Rich. “What about the others? Any opinions?”

“I don’t trust them completely, if we’re being honest,” Rich stated. Brooke’s ‘yeah’ was soft and Jeremy only nodded and looked down.

“I agree,” Christine’s tone wasn’t as factful as Rich’s, but it was still there.

“I love them, really I do, and I’m glad we can see them again. But…” Rich trailed off.

“But?” Brooke urged.

 It took a moment for Rich to find the right words. “But it’s been a _very_ long time since there was even an _option_ to trust anyone outside of just us. It’s almost… It feels like it’s impossible to completely trust anyone out here anymore.”

 There was a heavy silence before Christine cleared her throat and crossed her arms over the table. Leaning forward just a bit. “What’s our next plan of action?”

“We kinda exhausted all of it. Our only plan since day one was to get out and see the others. We’ve basically done all of that,” Jeremy leaned back on his arms and shifted his wings.

“Then what can we do? We’re very limited on what we can do right now,” Brooke asked.

“So I had this idea,” Rich trailed off with confidence in his eyes. Christine rolled her eyes, expecting one of Rich’s infamously bad escape plans. But then realizing there was no need for that. “How about we as for like, old books or something? Pick up our reading levels and y’know. Catch up on _six years of schooling_ that we missed.”

“ _Catch up_?” Brooke sounded more excited than skeptical about the idea.

“Yeah!” Rich’s expression brightened, “I mean think of all the interesting stuff we can learn. Like math or like- science.”

“Aviation!” Jeremy piped in, suddenly really excited about the idea.

“We can learn more than we’ve ever done before instead of sitting in a laboratory being tested at a seventh grade level for the rest of our lives,” Rich finished. He looked over at Christine to get the final vote. Even if she was outnumbered already. She had a hand holding her chin. Expression thoughtful.

“You can learn more about theatre,” Rich tempted. The smirk Christine failed to repress was vote enough.

“Alright, let’s do it.” Christine smiled, “but we ask once everything has settled. We can wait a day or two, right?”

“As long as we plan to ask, I’m down.” Rich was beaming back.

 

\----

 

 After dinner was had, TV was watched until nine o’clock, when Jake decided it was time to hit the hay. Everyone then started preparing for bed. New shirts dawned and ridiculously soft or patterned pyjama pants appreciated. Right before doors were closed Jake had to explain he’d be at school for most of the day tomorrow. There were three bags of knock-off cereal in the cupboard and milk for breakfast, maybe lunch if they wanted.

 Doors were shut, the house was locked up, and lights went out. The kids either slept on top of or kicked the blankets to the ends of the beds before turning out the lamps. They didn’t really want to argue that they didn’t need them, their wings were blankets enough, besides Jake and Jenna insisted on it. And they _were_ pretty soft. Everyone had fallen into the rhythm of sleep except for Jeremy. Who laid on his stomach, arms crossed under the pillow, and staring at the door. Thinking the day over in his head.

 That early morning talk with Rich helped calm his nerves a little. The Goodwill was nice, the Payless somewhat busy, and the Walmart completely stressful. Other than that it was a good day. Jeremy could overlook the overload of sensory information he took on that afternoon in light of actually being able to see the world again. Modern, normal, nostalgic. He was ignored by strangers, stared at by children- he thought it was because of the bruise on his cheek-, and no one gave him strange looks. It felt like he was wingless and human. It was one of the best days he’d had since leaving Michigan.

Jeremy fell into a calm sleep.

  
   **Everything felt like it was going to be okay**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the children. The happy, innocent minded children going through what is basically a fluff chapter. rip.  
> As usual, if there are any mistakes please tell me and I'll fix them right up. Would anyone be opposed to a slight DEH crossover? I'm sure we all know how they'll fit in but like... I dunno. Any input?


	12. For Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two flashbacks. Two boys talk. The reader learns something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY DUDES. I'm gonna put a warning here for you. Both blocks of italics are memories. The first one is okay, I guess? But the second is /literally/ right after Jeremy attempted his suicide. Not sure how bad it actually sounds or if I even did his mindset justice, but... just a heads up. It's background stuff so it's not gonna hurt your understanding of the story if you decide to skip. As long as you're okay there's no judgement here.  
> Other than that, hiya! Again- *default apology* there. Also, yeah. Not thoroughly edited.

_A stranger, a man in his early thirties, pulled the doctor’s backless rolling stool to the bedside and sat down. Legs crossed with his hands linked around his knee. He was dressed sharp in a black business suit, a deep blue button up underneath, and a black tie. His black hair was slicked back and his blue eyes cold, calculating, and judgemental. Yet the sympathetic look on his face and gentle smile would’ve passed as genuine if Jeremy hadn’t seen him before._

_This was the man who stood behind viewing windows during basic tests or watched the track when he ran. He was handed scientists’ clipboards and was the only source of colour he’d seen in this place. He usually had a different coloured undershirt on or his black suit would turn grey, become pinstriped, or even turn a dark blue. This was the man who looked at Jeremy with disdain, disappointment, disgust, or all three at once._

_Still, this was the first time this man was smiling at him and not test results. The first time_ anyone _here had smiled at him and not his actions. This was only slightly relaxing. Neither of them said a word as tense silence sat between a calm stranger and a very nervous Jeremy._

_Currently Jeremy was sitting up on a hospital bed in the Medward. Hooked up to a heart rate monitor and an IV Drip. Jeremy had seen a heart rate monitor on him before when he got into a car accident with his mom in fifth grade. He wasn’t injured, just precautionary measures. The numbers on this screen were too different from that time, yet the nurses that came in treated it as normal._

_Jeremy was sitting with his hands resting in his lap over the thin blanket, still unable to get up even if he could. Currently the bottom of his feet were burned and wrapped up after an escape attempt foiled by someone tossing window cleaner on the ground. And then lighting it on fire. While he was running through it. Jeremy was also badly bruised and there was a cut on the top of his right wing from a guards that caught him afterwards. He ached everywhere, everyone refused to give him painkillers, he just wanted to go to sleep, but the nurses refused to let him do so until later. When later was, he didn’t know._

_His wings were out, folded on either side of him and tied closed with straps. Those straps then connected to metal bars on the underside of the bed that Jeremy couldn’t reach. Effectively making it impossible to not only get out of the bed, but move his wings at all._

_“Hello Jeremiah,” said the stranger. Jeremy nodded a silence greeting. He hadn’t heard anyone use his actual name since right before his back started hurting and he passed out. Jeremy didn’t know how long ago that was but he assumed it had been a very long time. His name sounded strange after getting used to being called ‘036’ or just ‘thirty six’ repeatedly. He didn’t know how to proceed. Conversation was never Jeremy’s forte to begin with and no one ever tried to strike up one after he woke up. At least not one that didn’t involve tests. “My name is Sebastian.”_

_“Uh… N-Nice to meet you?”_

_At the greeting Sebastian’s smile turned slightly… smug. “Do you know where you are?”_

_“The Medward?”_

_“Do you know why you’re here?”_

_“My feet got burned and I got beat up.”_

_“Yes, you did. And do you know why you got beat up?”_

_“I… was running away.” Jeremy felt hesitant answering. Sebastian gave a few small nods as his head tilted to one side. Smile gone, expression unreadable, and an air of judgement settling over everything._

_“Yes you were.” There was a moment of silence before Sebastian took a breath and continued, “_ _Tell me, what were you running from, exactly?” Jeremy was quiet. He didn’t know how to answer a question like this. He never even thought he’d have to voice_ why _he hated it here. Why he needed to escape the horrible captivity. He knew perfectly well what he despised with everything he could. The feeling and emotion it made being alone. The nights and days blurred together and countless hours trapped in a small, lightless room. But he didn’t know the words that could convince this stranger, Sebastian, just how bad it really was. Why running away was the_ only _justified option Jeremy had._

_Apparently his silence was all Sebastian needed as an answer. “I see. And what are you running to? Anything specific?”_

_“I want to go home.”_

_“Home? And where is that?”_

_“With my dad and my friends and Michael.”_

_Sebastian suddenly gained an air of smug knowing around him. He rolled his shoulders for a moment before saying, “Do you think they’re looking for you?”_

_Immediately, question crossed Jeremy’s face. Eyebrows scrunched together he snapped, “why wouldn’t they be?”_

_“Did you know that after twenty four hours the chance of finding a missing person drops dramatically? The chances drop even further at forty eight, and even more at seventy two.”_

_“What… What’re you saying?” The harshness in Jeremy’s voice was gone but still kept the cautious curiosity._

_“I’m saying that they won’t come. After all this time the possibility of finding you is at absolute zero. Well, it would be if they even tried.”_

_“_ If _?” Jeremy was starting to get annoyed. The intimidation this man practically radiated did little to hide that he was saying complete_ lies _._

 _“Of course. They didn’t even try to find you. Well, maybe they filed a missing persons report and put a poster or two up in the park but they never_ actively _tried searching. They forgot about you within the week.”_

_“You’re lying.”_

_“Am I? I was_ there _, Jeremiah. They don’t care that you’re gone. Why would you want to go where you’re not wanted?”_

_“You don’t know anything about them. They care. They’re still searching. It was just delayed. Dad has work and- and everyone has school. They’re still looking for me.” Sebastian shook his head._

_“I’m telling you they’re not. They don’t even know why you left.”_

_“Why-? I- I was_ kidnapped _!” Sebastian’s eyes looked like they were mocking him._

_“Not according to your note.” In Jeremy’s puzzled silence Sebastian slipped a piece of folded paper from his pocket. He unfolded it and held it out to Jeremy, who took it and held it both hands. “This is a photocopy but it’s still the same.”_

_Jeremy quickly read it over. It was framing him. It was a_ lie _. He didn’t hate living with his father. He didn’t hate anything about the town except for the broken sidewalk next to the park and the loud music from the neighbour’s parties. Before he reached the bottom Sebastian snatched the paper away and slipped it back into his suit pocket. Jeremy balled the blanket in his hands and glared at the man._

_“It’s fake.”_

_“Of course it’s_ fake _. It’s a forgery.”_

_“How do you even know about them? About the note.”_

_“Because I authorized it. I authorize everything that happens in this building because I own it.” Jeremy was quiet for a moment. Why would anyone be proud to own such an evil place like this? Jeremy pushed the thought away for later._

_“They’d still try.”_

_“People don’t look for people who don’t want to be found. Besides, you really hurt them by running away. How could you do such a thing to them? They thought you cared.”_

_“I do care. I didn’t run away.”_

_“Yes you did. And even so, would you really want to go home to that? To hatred? To the people you’ve actively hurt to the point they’d willingly choose to forget everything about your pointless friendship?”_

_“It wasn’t pointless! They know I’d never want to hurt them. I care about them and they care about me. If they think I don’t I can convince them! These- these things can be all the proof I need!” Jeremy gestured to his restrained wings, anger in his eyes and tone. Sebastian frowned._

_“Jeremiah do you know what you are?”_

_The question threw him off. “What I am?”_

_“Do you think you’re still human.”_

_“Well,_ yeah _. I am human. I’ll always be human.”_

_“Are you though?”_

_“Why… Why wouldn’t I be?” The force in Jeremy’s voice faded. It got quieter and adopted a caution tone. The conversation felt like it was veering into a very bad place._

_“_ Humans _don’t have wings.”_

_“I didn’t have wings before.”_

_Sebastian nodded again in the same fashion as before, glancing at the ground for a moment._

_“Jeremiah are you aware that you are a monster?”_

_Jeremy’s head snapped to look at him. Eyes wide. A monster?_ Him _?_ _Monsters were evil and destroyed cities and were born in laboratories. They’re green and slimy and sometimes even zombies. Jeremy in no way resembled a monster. His voice was still quiet when he asked;_

_“A monster?”_

_Sebastian nodded once, solemnly. “I’m afraid so. You see-”_

_Jeremy stopped him by practically growling, “I am_ not _a monster.”_

 _Sebastian’s cold eyes got colder in that second. “Don’t interrupt me,_ Jeremiah _.” Suddenly hearing his name no longer felt like he was being seen as he was. But instead like he was being mocked. Bitter and scathing. Almost like how his mother would say it when he did something wrong. She’d say it like that when he was getting lectured the afternoons after Michael went home from sneaking in the previous night. She said it like that a lot. Sebastian resumed his composure as he continued. “As I was saying, your wings are absolutely and terrifyingly_ in _human. They’re horrible and they’re wrong. Disgusting almost. Human beings don’t have wings like yours-”_

 _“I mean_ obviously _,” Jeremy started, “you don’t have to tell me what I already know. I’d choose not to have them if I could.” The look Jeremy got for the interruption silenced him again._

 _“Anyone would run away in complete_ fear _if they saw you. Either the fear of God or the fear of monsters. Are you religious at all?”_

_“My dad is Jewish…”_

_“Do you practice this faith?”_

_“Kinda? I go to temple with him whenever we can and we have the holidays.”_

_“Do you think those in your community and temple would accept you as-” Sebastian gestured to Jeremy in his entirety._

_“I guess? They’re really nice people…”_

_“I’m sure they are, but even the nicest people act out when scared._ Especially _towards monstrous beings like you. Do you know what people do to monsters, Jeremiah?” Jeremy felt like he knew the answer but didn’t want to say it._

_“No.”_

_“They kill them. People_ kill _monsters. Even if they can’t hurt anyone.”_

_“No they don’t.”_

_“Don’t be so optimistic. What I’m trying to tell you is that if you leave here you_ will _be killed. Either by those of your faith, strangers,” Sebastian trailed off and looked around as if thinking for another word. His eyes landed on Jeremy again when he said, “_ Michael _.”_

_Jeremy quickly shook his head. “No. No you’re wrong. Michael wouldn’t kill me. I’m his best friend. He wouldn’t.”_

_Sebastian stood up and stared down at the boy. “I want you to remember something.”_

_“_ What _?” Jeremy's word was both scathing and weak. He was furious and annoyed that this person would walk in and have the audacity to misjudge everyone he cared about. Michael has never hurt Jeremy. He would never hurt Jeremy. And Jeremy would never willingly hurt him. They were a two-player team. Indestructible duo. Just like their group was one inseparable team. They’d never willingly let each other go. They’d never give up on one another._

_Right?_

_“This is the only place in the world where you will not be killed for your… additions. The world outside is mean, and it is cruel, and it will_ not _hesitate to shoot you where you stand. Keep that in mind for the next time you try to leave.” Sebastian started walking towards the door. Hands folded behind his back._

_“Why are you keeping me here?” Jeremy asked to Sebastian’s back. The man stopped, turned on his heel, and looked at the boy trapped in a bed by his wings. Expression calm and almost uninterested. When he said nothing Jeremy tried again. “Why don’t you let me out so the world can kill me instead of you?”_

_“You’re worthless to us dead, Jeremiah.”_

 

\----

 

  Jeremy awoke in a jolt. Immediately sitting up on his legs and looking around frantically. Eyes scrolling across the dark room for hints at Sebastian or the Medward. Only finding the sleeping forms of his friends calmly laying in their beds instead of beeping machines and a man in a suit. Christine had a blanket wrapped around her feet as she laid on her back. One wing hanging off the side of the bed. Rich had kicked his blanket off entirely while Brooke’s was twisted and pressed against the wall. The corner wrapped around only one of her feet.

  The sight of them was calming and Jeremy sighed. Sitting back and rubbing his hands over his face. It was only a memory. Nothing more. It wasn’t as terrifying as other memories he had. But it was one that haunted him.

 That was the day he met Sebastian face to face for the first time. It was the first and only time someone had broken isolation to hold some form of conversation with him, however unpleasant it turned out to be, instead of insulting him for a job done poorly. It was right after his first nearly successful escape attempt. After he got to the Centre he estimated he was around thirteen when it happened so about a year after getting caught.

 Jeremy had made it through eight hallways, a stairwell, and knocked out six guards before that cleaner and match stopped him. He was in the Medward for two whole months to heal properly.

 Jeremy shifted his wings around and laid back down. Mindlessly poking his feathers while using one arm as a sort of pillow. Sleep didn’t feel possible but he decided to at least try and let it come back.

 

\----

 

   _Jeremy was very, very tired. Yet again he had his wings tied to the rails of the bed and yet again the nurses refused to give him painkillers. His left forearm was bandaged tightly and red in places. Though he was staring right at it, he was thinking of something else._

_Sixteen, he heard one of the doctors say when they thought he was asleep. And the number rattled in his head ever since he became conscious. Jeremiah Heere was sixteen years old. Four whole years he had been stuck there, and no one had come to get him. Just like Sebastian had said. Four whole years that felt like eternity._

_Honestly he felt numb, which was not a new feeling for him anymore. He was hooked up to a heart rate monitor and an IV drip. The high numbers no longer striking him as abnormal. Sitting up in the bed and just staring at his arm. His right hand hovering over the bandages to make sure they were actually there. Wondering if that one knife would’ve been enough or if he should’ve tried something else. Then his mind wandered as to what drove him to do it._

_There was nothing here in the white walls and tiny room where days and nights didn’t exist. The time, four_ fucking _years, had faded most of his memories of the world so much. It was the equivalent of taking everything away from him. What was the world like now?  Are his friend’s happy? Are they still a group? They’d be in school still. Jeremy missed school. What would they be doing with their lives right now? What was living even_ like _? It was hard to remember anything anymore._

_In the silence of the Medward room, a feeling of regret was building in Jeremy’s chest. Now that he had a clearer mind to think over what he’d done. Or tied to do. In an act he never planned, in one moment where his mind was made of cotton and his actions didn’t feel real, Jeremiah Heere tried to die._

_What then? What would that have actually accomplished? Would he ever know if Sebastian created that note just to break his spirit? Would he ever know if Michael actually hated him? Would his father never understand why he’d been gone for so long? Would Sebastian and Nancy ever see this horror revealed under the limelight of the public? If he was gone… what would happen?_ If he was gone.

 _A man in a black suit and blue button up pulled the backless rolling stool to the bedside and sat down. Legs uncrossed and hands clasped together as his elbows rested on his knees. He offered no almost-genuine look in his judgmental eyes. He was simply cold and uncaring. Like the woman Jeremy knew as his mother who hovered by the door with an impatient look on his face. These people were never_ not _uncaring villainous people to him. But in the man’s eyes was an underlying nervousness that Jeremy would’ve relished being the cause of if he could feel anything properly anymore._

_“Jeremiah do you know where you are?” Sebastian asked._

_Jeremy answered with a toneless, “Medward.”_

_“Do you know why you’re here?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Then why?”_

_“I was running away.”_

_For the first time that Jeremy had ever known him, Sebastian raised his eyes in unbidden surprised as he quickly glanced at Nancy. Eyebrows raised for only a moment as he regained his neutral expression and tone before asking, “what were you running from exactly?”_

_This time Jeremy knew the exact answer to the question. It wasn’t complicated. It wasn’t wordy or some fancy metaphor for evil or anything like that. It was the sum of the four years alone, scared, and screaming with_ everyone _hearing but keeping their backs turned. Four years where he was the only one in the world who cared about_ him _, and even then that stopped only recently. Four years where he was the only one who cared that he was a human being too and he was not supposed to be there. And it was only six words._

_Jeremy knew he looked emotionless, tired, and broken. Wearing the face of someone who’d given up and was picked up without permission. Looking Sebastian dead in the eyes Jeremy tonelessly said,_

_“I was running away from you.”_

_“Why?” Nancy broke in, voice sharp. “Why risk everything to get out if you don’t see your father and Michael? That_ is _what you want, isn’t it?” Jeremy glanced at her, back to Sebastian, then at his hands. He felt a thin, dry smile cross his face. Bitter and loathing, just like his eyes in that moment. It was the first time Jeremy had smiled in a long while._

_“I’m worthless to you dead, aren’t I?”_

 

_\----_

 

 Jeremy decided he wasn’t going to go back to sleep today.

 

\----

 

 Jake was leaning on a wall of lockers early Monday morning. Arms crossed and one earbud in listening to music as he waited. Occasionally a teacher or a student he vaguely knew would come up and ask him about his eye, which looked much better than it did on Saturday. Jake had created an elaborate mugging that had been handled to get them to go on their way. He had to admit pausing his music to lie to a curious stranger every few minutes was getting annoying.

 Right now he was waiting for Michael to get here. He was running behind his usual schedule, something Jake knew vaguely of just that he got to school at a specific time like clockwork, and the wait was taking longer than expected.

 Over the night Jake had done some thinking and decided that talking the idea over with Michael first was the best bet. He wanted two things. It integrate their winged friends back into the realm and culture of their generation, and figure out just what happened to them before. He knew their side of the story, for sure, it was haunting and made him wonder a lot about his own parents’ history. But he also wanted to know the side even they didn’t know. Who exactly _is_ Sebastian? There are countless people named Sebastian in the world and there was no telling who it was they were dealing with. He wanted to know what the experiment was for, who was stupid enough to fund it, and why ‘they’ decided to use children as guinea pigs.

 The teenage boy was knocked from his wandering mind when someone hit the lockers next to his head. Jake jumped and turned to see Michael standing there. Eyebrows raised, hand hovering over the metal next to the popular kid, and other hand on his locker. Headphones around his neck blasting a song Jake didn’t recognize.

“What’re you doing over here? Your friends are in the lunchroom,” Michael said while effortlessly unlocking the padlock and opening his locker. The song in his headphones changed to something softer as he started shifting books around, almost angrily.

“I wanted to run something by you real quick.” Michael glanced at him and went back to shoving his math binder in his backpack. “I want to investigate the others.”

“The others?” Michael didn’t look away from his task.

“Y’know. Those  _guests_?” Jake insisted, Michael only gave a short hum in response, “It’s a temporary code name. I don’t think people should know just yet.”

“What did you want to run by me? It wasn’t just for a code name, was it.”

  Jake refrained from frowning at Michael's somewhat annoyed tone. “No. I wanna figure out what’s up. They told their side, I wanna know the rest. Like- _why_?”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon for that? They got into town two days ago.” Michael zipped his bag closed and shut the locker with a loud metal _slam_ before starting towards his first class. Jake easily fell into step beside him.

“I’m just curious and impatient. It’d be nice to know what the hell is going on.” Jake felt like he was on ignore. “Hey.” Michael started walking faster and Jake put a hand on his shoulder, “ _Hey_.”

“ _What_?” Michael sounded more than just annoyed as he whirled around to face the other again.

“What’s up with you?” Jake was nothing short of concerned. Yeah, Michael always looked pissed when he walked by but he just assumed it was family stuff. This just seemed out of place considering how calm he was the day before.

“What’s up with _me_? What’s up with _you_?” Michael snapped.

“With me?”

“They- Your new house guests or whatever just zipped right into our lives and now we’re going to act like the last six years never even happened and we’re all buddy-buddy? Like we didn’t all abandon each other?”

“I thought you were happy about this.” Jake was doing his best to keep a calm head.

“I _am_ and that’s what’s frustrating!” Michael almost yelled in the barely empty hallway. No one was there to draw their eyes to him, but a few ears certainly were. “I’m super happy and I _should_ be! But I've been angry for a _very_ long time it's kinda hard to let that go. That and we’re all practically strangers now it’s been so long. And they’re… They’re… I don’t even _know_! Has it not settled in your head that this could potentially be a bad idea?”

“What’s a bad idea, inviting them in? You saw them. You  _know_ them. They need help.”

“And _we_ can? Dude you saw how Chloe and I were when we talked about Mr.Heere. You saw how we all are clashing without even noticing. We’re all so different and fucked up that we can’t help _them_ till we get this,” Michael gestured between the two of them, “sorted out.”

“We can fix this,” Jake mimicked Michael’s earlier gesture, “and help them at the same time. We’re resourceful people-”

“We’re _kids_ , Jake. We can’t do everything. We need help. _Real_ help.You _know_ who I’m talking about.”

“I know.” David Heere. That was the only other person Jake could think of who could help them. And probably the only adult Jeremy, Rich, Christine, and Brooke would immediately trust with no objections. Though the fact he was remarried and devoted to his new family could potentially be a problem, that was ignored for now.

“We need him.” Michael had stopped yelling at that point and his tension seemed to calm. The hallway was eerily quiet and Jake looked beyond Michael for only a second to scan the hallway. He saw someone farther down leaning on a wall of lockers next to an intersection in the hall. It was someone wearing black and staring down at his phone with headphones on. He probably couldn’t hear them shouting just now.

  It was still early and the horde of students, or even loiterers, was to be expected to start filing in soon. But right now was an empty hall with over half the classrooms still locked and the others holding teachers who were too busy to care and the few students who snuck past the cafeteria monitors.

 Michael readjusted his backpack before speaking again in a quieter voice. “We can look into them soon. But getting everyone adjusted comes first. Christi- uh- _Chris_ said that their list of things to avoid n’ stuff could get longer. Let’s try and get to know them more and work ourselves out.”

 Jake nodded. “Yeah, alright. Oh, another thing-”

“What?”

“I wanna show them vines.”

 Michael suddenly snorted and covered his mouth with his hand. “You wanna _what_?” He sounded on the verge of laughter instead of his earlier anger. Jake shrugged with his own smile on his face.

“They’re our generation and know nothing of our teenage culture. Vines are _essential_. Plus I made a reference during dinner last night and it hurt when it went unnoticed. It’s a _crime_ and it might help them.” Jake was glad the mood had lightened up and Michael looked like he felt at least somewhat better. Though he knew the issue was going to come up again at some point or another.

“I don’t know how it’ll help but I wanna be there when you binge a shit ton of r.i.p vine compilations _on_ _purpose_.”

“Got it.” Jake glanced at one of the electronic clocks sitting above the lockers. He pointed a thumb behind him while half turning to start leaving. “I’m gonna go talk to Jenna and meet up with Chloe so I’ll catch you at lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Yeah I was gonna see if all four of us could sit together n’ talk. Like what normal friend groups do. We share a lunch period so it’s not like there’s a problem.”

“You should sit with your own friends. It looks kinda... _weird_ to suddenly be sitting with me.”

“Literally three teachers poked their heads out of their classrooms and saw us shouting at each other and then start laughing about showing the mysterious ‘them’ vines. I don’t think it’ll be as weird as that first thing in the morning.”

 Michael stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket and shrugged. “Still. Your group is the best place for your rep.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It _means_ I’m not exactly popular, Dillinger. You and Chloe’s rep would be ruined if you’re caught hanging out with people who you got into a _screaming match_ with in seventh grade.”

“C’ _mon_. No one but us remembers the yellout, dude. It’ll be fine, I’ll see you at lunch.” Jake walked away with a small wave and leaving an air of finality in his place. He felt confident that lunch couldn’t go wrong. He was looking forward to sitting down with people who weren’t just ‘cool kids’ for once in his high school career.

 

\----

 

 Michael watched Jake walk away with his head held high and his usual confident swagger. Somehow even more upbeat than how he normally walked. _Especially_ on a Monday morning. He didn’t know why he even tried denying Jake a lunch seat. He would’ve done it anyway if he really wanted too.

 He started to walk to class as he pulled his headphones back on. Passing a kid in a black jacket, hood up and phone in hand, and leaning on a wall. Michael ignored him and turned left to go up the stairwell and to the second floor. He didn’t know what his problem was today or why he so aggressively snapped at Jake _in the school hallway_. About  _them_ no less.

 That day he felt almost… angry walking into the school. Bitter and closed off as he’d always been after accepting how Jeremy left. Now that all four of them were back and the truth was told it was better, but the air around it changed in an unnameable way. Twisted and almost unsafe.

 Michael walked into his algebra two class and dropped his backpack on the floor next to his desk. The class itself wasn’t too hard for him. It was a mixture of seniors and juniors trapped in a complicated web of numbers and the alphabet right off the bat, sure, but not hard. That didn’t mean he didn’t still hate it.

 As the song in the headphones switched to good ol’ Billy Joel, someone dropped themselves to sit sideways in the desk in front of him. Normally the person who sat there was a junior girl Michael didn’t know, but this wasn’t her. This was the senior boy with a cheeky grin, glasses, and curious eyes. This was Jared Kleinman.

 Jared wasn’t a bad guy. Michael could tell he was just about as insecure as the rest of the hormonal teenagers trapped in hell for four years. Maybe even just a little more than the average. He only had that figured out in theory, anyways. It didn’t dismiss that his cocky know-it-all attitude and whispered puns all day weren't annoying as all get-out. Jared was still one of the few ‘school-only’ friends Michael managed to make.

“So,” Jared started, leaning an arm on Michael’s desk, “what were you and Jake Dillinger talking about out there?”

 Michael pulled one half of his headphones behind his ear and lowered the volume of his music. “Nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing. You were yelling,” Jared suddenly gasped in a mocking way, “was it a lover’s quarrel?”

“Wha- NO. It was just- nothing.”

“Hm. How’d you get him to be your friend again after calling him a selfish dickweed in the seventh grade yellout?”

“God _f_ _ucking_ dammit.”

 

\----

 

“I’m not telling you to do the impossible I’m _telling_ you to get them back here before they’re seen,” Sebastian practically hissed into the phone, “do it quietly.” Sebastian paused as the voice on the other side of the line spoke. “Check everywhere! Check California. Michigan. New Jersey. Check _China_ for all I care just find those experiments or _you’ll_ be on the other side of the glass.” The man slammed the phone down on the receiver and dropped himself back into his seat. A hand rubbing his temples and a scowl on his face.

 Sitting on one of the couches in front of his desk was Nancy Heere, overseer of Project W and mother of 036. Her ability to so heartlessly volunteer her only child to their goal, and convince several of her friends to do the same with their children, was admirable to him. She was typing away at her phone with a face just about as unhappy as he was, a thick red folder sitting on the cushion beside her.

 Their cause of unhappiness was that four of their oldest living experiments had gotten out. _Four_. All at once charging the halls and actually managing to get past the doors of one of the most secure of his complexes. It would’ve been fine if it hadn’t been 007, 548, 607, and 036. The more promising group of the forty other experiments in Project W. Currently they had been managing to avoid any sort of detection for almost a week.

“Any progress?” Nancy asked without looking away from her phone screen. What she was doing on that screen, Sebastian didn’t know or care about, he sighed. Sebastian got up and walked over to the large window in his office. The morning was still early and Detroit was starting to wake up below.

“They’ve disappeared into thin air.”

“Did you at least figure out who helped them?”

“Actually yes, that was one of the only things the staff managed to do on time.” Sebastian walked back to his desk and pressed a button on a remote left on the desk. A small box on the corner of the desk shot out light and allowed a large projection to hover just in front of it. Nancy looked at the blue screen displaying a photo and a list of information on the man. “His name was Gerard Cruz, thirty seven years old and one of the health workers. He’s been with the project for ten years and transferred to the Michigan compound after 036 and 007’s attempts. Since then he’s been reported as friendly with the subjects. Even calling them by name.”

“He’s one of those sympathizers, isn’t he?” Nancy’s face was one of disgust. Sebastian shut the projection off and went back to the window. Hands held behind his back.

“He is. But he’s dealt with. Besides, they’re not the first winged beings let loose on the world. It won’t be long until someone says something or they’re found dead. The field trip will be over and we’ll move them to the Australian compound once we recapture them.”

“Have you put those kids under monitoring?” Sebastian saw Nancy stand up in the glass reflection, picking up the folder and tucking it under one arm. Still checking something on her phone. An email. “They’re very possible targets they could run to.” Sebastian turned his head to look over his shoulder at her. Eyes cold.

“They will be by this afternoon. These experiments are smart enough to know that running to an obvious hiding place is certain doom. They’re bound to get as far away from the compound as they can before we get them.”

“I’d still keep them tightly monitored. They are smart experiments, yes, maybe smart enough to fool us.” Nancy slipped her phone in her suit coat’s pocket before walking towards the door. Heels clicking on the hard tile floors with each step. Sebastian glared out the window, fully aware there was nothing to actually glare at.

 Losing those four would cost him greatly if they ever slipped the information to outsiders. Then again Sebastian was positive they knew very little about where they’d been kept, why they existed, and the names of who was behind it all. Except for Nancy, that is.

“Mr.Quenn?”

 Sebastian turned sharply on his heel to look at the door. This train of thought was getting him somewhat agitated. The longer they were free the more the risk his 'empire' would crumble. A shorter man with a receding hairline and grey suit stood in the doorway. His man had a plain name that Sebastian couldn’t remember and was usually fairly nervous. So when Sebastian spat a very bitter, “ _what_?” He jumped.

“T-There’s someone to see you? He says it’s something about the Michigan branch of the company?” Sebastian took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. Walking towards the door he adjusted his tie. “He’s in conference room three. Do I need to call the board?”

“No need, this will be short.” Sebastian walked down the hallway quickly. Passing cubicles and workers either already starting their day or just settling in. His stride was long and confident, leaving the shorter man to try and keep up. “Cancel the seven o’clock. I have more important matters to attend to.”

 For him, everything was going to turn out in his favour. Whether anyone knew it or not. He was going to change the way the world worked and become powerful as he did it. Victory was close, and he wasn’t going to let a few runaways spoil his goal.

 

**For him, everything would turn out more than just ‘okay’.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't do Jared Kleinman any justice and it's a crime.


	13. Jake was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realization, a plan, some lies, and a conversation accidentally overheard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmm not so happy with this chapter. Idk- it took a while to compose. Anyways, i'm back! School is seriously getting in the way of writing but it'll be over with here soon.

  Three in the morning on a Tuesday, and Jake was suddenly remembering that Friday was the night of his almost weekly parties. The only exception being the last weekend of every month were taken as ‘me’ time. Excluding holidays and sudden illness, of course. This magical realization hit him when Dustin Kropp texted him and asked if he should bring vodka or tequila this weekend. Even though it was still very early and Dustin, like Jake, should’ve been asleep, he was left on read. And Jake was left to think of a plan.

  He couldn’t suddenly call off a party without reason. He wasn’t sick and it wasn’t the last weekend of the month yet. There’d be suspicion on his part and there were already tons of weird looks, questions, and a _very_ active rumour mill just because he started hanging out with Jenna and Michael again.

 Jake guessed it was a thing he’d talk to everyone about that afternoon. Personally, he didn’t want to host another high school party with four kids with wings sitting stuck in a bedroom upstairs.  _Especially_ when the parties got loud and out of hand most of the time. Those kids hated crowds by themselves. And loud noise. And being stuck in one room. And, as Jake recently discovered, techno music (Brooke was the only one with the dislike. She said something about the pitch being heavily uncomfortable. Jake honestly didn’t understand what that meant but rolled with it anyways.) A party right now with them involved would put at _least_ one of them into some sort of trouble with a drunk teenager. Considering that they had no social skills with the modern youth, and they all were pretty attractive in their own ways, it’d end with a disaster. The best of which being Rich started a fight or… Jake didn’t want to think of any other possibilities right then.

  ‘ _A day in the life_ ,’ Jake thought bitterly as he got up to put on a jacket and leave the bedroom. He went to go sit out on the back porch. Sleep was avoiding him like he had the plague and fresh air might’ve helped. He left the back door cracked open and sat down on one of the plastic lawn chairs. The sky was as light-polluted as ever and stars weren’t a thing in the city. But the night was cloudless and looking up at the expanse of dark glass was nice either way.

  The porch was lit only by the lamp in the living room window and a dying porch light. The lamp was usually left on at night so he could see where he was going in the mornings when he needed to get ready and the sun wasn’t up. The porch light was dull and the light bulb needed changing. But he wasn’t normally out here when it was late so he never actually bothered with it.

   The light was behind him. Casting the grass and yard ahead in weird shadows. Jake didn’t notice the second one until someone had already dropped themselves in a chair. Sitting sideways, knees to their chest and wings hanging over one of the arm rests.  Jake jumped and looked over to find Christine. Hugging her knees and looking up at the blank sky. Just like he was. He didn’t go back to doing it, though.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jake asked. Christine shook her head and kept her eyes upwards. He wondered if she wanted to go back to the sky again instead of being stuck in his parents’ house all the time. Silence continued.

“Can I ask you something?” her voice was soft. Almost wary. Like she didn’t exactly trust what she was about to say but needed to anyways. Jake readjusted in his seat to look more attentive. His phone on the armrest buzzed. Jake glanced to see it was Dustin again. He was promptly ignored.

“Yeah, shoot.”

 Christine didn’t look at him when she asked, “did you all really look for us? After we were taken?”

   If it wasn’t for how serious this moment was Jake would’ve laughed. What kind of question was that? Did Christine really doubt that they would be searched for if they went missing? It took a moment to process that internal thought. Did Christine actually, _genuinely_ think that her friends would simply abandon her like that? Abandon the group? Did she not remember their effort to look for Jeremy and Rich after they went missing? Jake looked at her quizzically for a few silent moments. “Of course we did,” Jake’s voice was a mixture of reassuring and conflicted. There was a pause. “Why do you ask?” Christine glanced at him, shook her head, and looked back at the sky. Jake saw the tiredness in her eyes before she looked away.

“We were told that you didn’t. We were told a _lot_ of things, actually. I just… I wanted to reassure myself that they were lying.”

“It seems to me that this ‘they’ you’re all talking about lie about everything,” Jake mused. He was serious though. More silence passed and Jake didn’t sit well in quiet like this. Without processing his words he asked, “is everything alright with you four?” There was no time to backpedal the question when there was an answer.

“No.” Jake’s silence prompted her to continue. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re awesome. We’re happy here and there’s honestly no other place we could be safer but we’re scare-.... We’re lost.”

  Despite the sudden switch of words and the hesitance on the word lost, Jake still pushed the subject. “Lost?”

“It’s been our dream to come home again. Since day one- for all of us- our plan was to get out, go home, find everyone, and live. And now it’s a reality.” Christine exhaled a single breath from her nose before shrugging her shoulders and briefly shaking her head. “We’re here. We’re completely our goal, mostly and there’s nothing. To tell you the truth I never thought we could _actually_ make it out, let alone this far. Not with how many times we failed in the past or what happened as a result. But now that we have we have no goals to head towards. It’s… it’s terrifying.”

  Jake never actually thought about their point of view before. He’d thought about everything from his. About what his group should be doing. Get them to settle, get the story sorted, start working through years of possible trauma caused by that shitshow Sebastian, or whatever his name actually was. He never thought about what the ones they were helping should do. They had to be bored out of their minds sitting at home all day. Especially seeing Christine's almost constant need for activity and Rich’s obvious want of a challenge.

  Then Jake’s mind processed and focused on their previous goal. Coming back. The four kidnapped children cared for this ragtag group of kids so much that they’d try to escape from science facility for _years_ just to get back. Or- at least wanted to get out in general. But never planned for the afterwards. Christine didn’t think they’d actually make it back, but still tried it. Jake wasn’t able to imagine their conversations. Did they fantasize about meeting again? Did they talk about memories or what life would be like as time went on?

“Did you have anything in mind?” Jake softly tapped his heel on the ground a few times. As if to step on a pause button and stop the running questions in his head. Christine shrugged.

“Rich had this idea,” she started to idly fiddle with the cuff of her pyjama pants, “he suggested we try and ‘catch up’ academically. He wants to know what we should’ve learned in school but didn’t have the chance to.” Jake frowned.

“Did they not teach you anything there?”

“The basic of the basics. Reading, easy math, comprehension, memorization of absolutely _useless_ things. It was like kindergarten all over again. They kept us away from difficult sciences and history and things like that. Enough so that we had practical knowledge of things. The lessons were probably to keep our minds useful for more than puzzle solving and answering medical questions.” Christine followed her revelation with a dry, bitter laugh.

  Jake didn’t know how to respond to this. How could he? No one had ever dealt with a situation like this before, so there was hardly any sort of manual or advice column to go to for help. There weren’t any ideas for the course of action. No tips for how to start recovering that didn’t involve getting professionals into the mix. There wasn’t any way they could do that without revealing their existence here. There was just… nothing.

“I’ll see about getting you guys books. The others should have old class workbooks and I think I have a few upstairs from freshman year.”

 Christine finally turned her head to look at him. She smiled warmly and the expression was purely genuine. “I really appreciate it.” Jake smiled back at her.

“It’s no problem.”

 

\----

 

“It is _so_ a problem,” said Chloe Wednesday morning. She was walking down the hallway with Jake almost right after he got to school, found her, and pitched the idea of cancelling the party on Friday. “You can’t just cancel parties as frequent as yours, Jake. Your rep and my rep are counting on this thing happening.” Chloe’s wedged heels _thunk_ ed down the hallway as they walked, side by side, towards the girl’s locker. Her strides were short and quick compared to Jake’s longer and more casual ones. His hands stuffed in his jean pockets and a frown on his face.

“A high school reputation is seriously more important than our friends’ comfort?”

“We can’t all be comfortable.” Chloe came to a stop at her locker and quickly opened it. Jake decided to ask the question he _knew_ would start sparks. But something about this week stopped him from caring about the consequences.

“What’s up with you today? You were fine yesterday.” Chloe _immediately_ looked behind her locker door at Jake’s face. Eyes fiery and lips pursed. She was _mad_.

“Nothing is _up_ with me,” she hissed in away that said just the opposite.

“Obviously something is if you’re really putting a reputation over Bro-”

“ _Don’t_ say her name here.” Chloe glanced around and went back to transferring books and binders. “Madeline came up to me yesterday in last block and started asking why I was hanging with the school gossip queen or whatever and started accusing me of spilling things to Jenna to spread around because she’s _convinced_ I don’t like her. And that started to get _Anne_ started on the same track of me giving out her info, and Elizabeth is totally spreading rumours that I’m dating Michael though I’m definitely not. He has had a pride patch since Freshman year for fuck’s sake, I’m not dating an openly gay guy. That’s exactly what gay guys _don’t_ do. They’re digging into everything the wrong way and my relationships are suffering for it.” Jake leaned one shoulder on the wall of lockers.

“I thought you don’t like Madeline.”

“I don’t but that’s not the point, Jake. The point is- it’s only been a day and people are already starting to ask questions. If you don’t host your stupid party there’s gonna be more of them and all of us are going to face the music on that one if some kid gets curious about the reasons. Have Michael or Jenna take them for the night or whatever. They don’t go to these things.” Chloe closed her locker and put her backpack back on.

“Jenna’s mom is back from her trip and Michael’s mom came home yesterday. They’ll get caught.”

“Not if they fold and hide in bedrooms. They can lie and pretend they’re friends from school and need to do a project or study or- _whatever_. Or split the boys with Michael and girls with Jenna and say it's a sleepover. I don’t care, they just need to be out of the house on Friday night.”

   Jake frowned as Chloe crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto her right leg.

“Will they be alright with splitting up? I mean they’re bunking together for the specific reason of being near one another,” Jake moved so his whole back was leaning on the lockers, “I don’t want anything to happen if they’re apart.”

   Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed. “I don’t mean to sound like a bitch when I say this but it had to happen some time and it’s for the greater good in the long run.” she glanced at her watch. “I need to go meet Elizabeth and Madeline.” without another word Chloe was walking away down the hall towards the cafeteria.

   Jake watched her go with his only thought being, ‘ _that did sound kinda bitchy._ ’

 

\----

 

   Michael was sitting on top of one of the concrete tables outside. It was warm for late spring, and the thought of junior year finally drawing near a close was gladly welcomed. Summer was right around the corner too. Months in the cold basement and not the searing, humid heat outside was a plan to behold.

 Music, loud and ‘retro’ by some standards, blared through his headphones. His legs dangled over the side of the table and his arms supported him as she leaned back a little. Other students were avoiding his tiny little corner outside of the shade’s reach. But that made it all the more his to enjoy. Near his hand was a half full red slushie while beside him on the table was an empty sushi container. The only thing left on the plastic tray was the bit of wasabi. Michael more or less hated it after his younger cousins once snuck a line of wasabi paste into his sandwich when he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t the same since.

 But right now, with his eyes closed and head thrown back, Michael enjoyed the warmth. Enjoyed the moments of a light peace resting in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a while. Able to let himself forget about the stresses of life until the lunch bell rang and he was back inside. The peace ultimately subsided when he felt a presence. He opened his eyes and sat up straighter to be met with Jake, Jenna in tow right behind him looking about as bored and confused as ever. She sat down on the table’s bench next to Michael as the boy turned off his music and pulled his headphones around his neck.

“What can I do ya for?” Michael said casually.

“I need a favour.” Jake took on a serious expression and Michael glanced to Jenna. The girl simply shrugged and leaned one elbow on the table to hold her cheek and look up at the jock.

“Alright,” Michael started and he moved to sit criss-cross on the table ledge, “what is it?”

   This was when Jake moved to rub the back of his neck and glance around. “I kinda need you both to take in our uh… our _guests_ this weekend?”

  Michael blanked for a minute. Momentarily let the request process in the back of his mind before he understood and gave a short, huffy sort of laugh as a response.

“Why?” He said in the same laughing tone. Jake _actually_ looked sheepish as he sighed and answered.

“Well you know how I have those parties almost every weekend?”

   Jenna rolled her eyes. “Come _on_ , you had one last weekend. Take a break,” she said.

“Can’t you cancel?” Michael groaned. He had no problem babysitting, especially when those he was babysitting were his age, if only a bit older, but getting his mom to agree to a sleepover? She played it by middle school rules since Jeremy left. Know the parents. Know the connection. Get the numbers for immediate contact if something happened. Then they can come over. It was smart, but Michael was almost eighteen so it turned into an annoyance.

“I tried telling Chloe that I was gonna cancel but she brought up this good point that not doing it would generate rumours and questions. She’s stressing over this stuff and our reputations- for some reason, I dunno. Can you just take them for the weekend? I’ll pick them up Saturday afternoon at the latest. I swear.”

   Jenna laughed, not one of those mocking laughs, but more of a short- ‘I think this situation is funny and I have a shitty joke for it’ kind of laugh. “You’re making it sound like we all have dual custody over a bunch of kids,” she said.

“Or a like we’re a couple of babysitters,” Michael chimed in.

"Estranged Aunt and Uncle from Iowa?"

"Godparents no one has heard of but have suddenly offered to take the kids in for a bit."

  Jake didn’t seem to think the running joke between the two was funny. He kept rubbing the back of his neck until he stopped and simply rested his hand over the back. He looked… nervous. Michael and Jenna stopped naming off comparisons to listen to him.

“Yeah, it does. But can you?”

 Jenna hummed an agreement. “I can take the girls. My mom’s usually fine with having friends over. I’ll just fake their names a bit.” She was already on her phone opening the messaging app before her last sentence was over. Jake looked at Michael.

“I’ll ask my mom about it tonight and get back to you later.” Asking in person always worked better than texting, Michael had found that out the hard way. Mainly because his mom didn’t like texting. She did enough typing for work and she didn’t want to do it excessively on a smaller keyboard. Her logic made little sense to Michael but whatever. All he had to do was remember the lie he was going to say to get her to say yes.

 Jake visibly relaxed a bit. “Thanks, you really don’t know how much I appreciate this.” Jenna shrugged without looking up from her phone and Michael made a ‘meh’ sound. Though he was getting ready to ask what was wrong with Jake. Michael had seen him so peppy and confident that morning and now he seemed… off. The bell rang before he could get a word out and Jake was off to go find his backpack.

 

——

  


  Convincing his mother was probably the hardest thing. Michael spent his entire last class thinking up a coherent and logical story for Rich and Jeremy. Fake names, reasons she can’t meet their parents, how they’ll get a ride from a friend going the same way as the house, and answers to any other small questions she might ask. Michael always saw characters in books or TV get caught in lies because they did it on the spot and were never consistent. Didn’t think of the tiny things or didn’t remember them once spoken.

  It was with this strategy Michael won his mother's agreement, as reluctant as it was, to allow the boys to spend the night.

  Jeremy and Rich, now named William and Gerard, respectively, met Michael during their lunch period at the start of the year and they became fast friends. They were in the same grade. ‘William’ was seventeen and ‘Gerard’ was the same. Their parents worked together and ‘William’s’ mother had a business trip and left him on his own for the weekend. ‘Gerard’ just wanted to hang out.

 Jake sauntered into English class- Michael was late coming to school because of a doctor’s appointment- and stood by Chloe’s desk as she sat down. His eyebrows raised in the silent question of ‘what’s the news?’.

“In words opposite Simon Cowell, it’s a yes from me,” Michael said, tapping the eraser of his pencil on the desk. Jake smiled.

“Awesome! I’ll drop them off at five? That good?” Michael shrugged.

“Yeah. I’ll text you their info. I had to lie _so much_ to get her to say yes. You owe me for that.”

“Their info?” asked Chloe. She had crossed her arms on the desk and leaned on them, casting a questioning look at Michael as she did. “What’d you lie about? Their names?”

“Jeremy is now William and Rich is Gerard.” Michael had significantly lowered his voice as a pair of students walked into the class and past them. Jake moved to sit on the desk in front of Michael. Feet resting in the chair as he leaned forward to look at the other two. The desk wasn’t his, but he’d move when the person got there.

“Speaking of- you know those workbooks teachers give out but never assigned work for?” jake started. Chloe and Michael cast looks at each other but shrugged an agreement. “Well Chris was saying she and the others wanted to like- catch up or something. And those would be a pretty good way to help them out. Do you have any from last year or before that they could work in?”

  Michael sat back in his chair and hummed. “I could dig around but probably. Those books get lost in my room so I haven’t tossed them yet.”

“Ditto. I’ll check but no guarantees.” Chloe pulled her phone from her pocket and started opening up a messaging app. “I’ll text Jenna about it, too.”

 

\----

  


  By the time Thursday night came around everyone was already set up with the appropriate stories and plans. Not to mention old English and math workbooks supplied by their friends were distributed when Jake got home. Honestly Jake couldn’t get over the four teenagers’ excited faces when they were holding math worksheets. It was funny, if not strange.

 Jake expected everyone to be in bed when he woke up at one in the morning. He was restless and didn’t know why. So he went to go adventure to the yard and get some air. He heard talking in the hallway instead and froze at his closed door to listen.

“I’m not liking this party idea,” Jake heard Rich whisper. He sounded frustrated and tired. “I don’t like splitting up. Last time was to help us all get on the ground. This is just…” There was a soft sigh in response.

“At least we’ll know where everyone is. Jake said it’s because some of Chloe’s friends are suspicious of them. In theory if they have the party that could go away. The less reason people have to snoop around our friends’ business the better for everyone.” It was Christine. Her voice was low and soft, trying to comfort Rich and his worries.

“What if something happens, hm? Sebastian could have scouts or something watching the house. They could easily get in and bug the place when no one’s paying attention!”

“You need to calm down before you wake everyone up.” There was a slightly more forceful tone in Christine’s voice, which made Jake wonder if Rich moved in some sudden way or his expression changed. “We’re all nervous about splitting and we’re all nervous about Sebastian finding us. We’ll be in contact through Jenna and Michael if anything happens. We’ve all been in the same Centre for two years. You know how to calm Jeremy down if anything happens and he knows how to help you, too. But nothing is going to go wrong because we are _safe_ with Michael and Jenna. We're safe here.”

 There was an angry hiss from Rich and then silence. A more relaxed sigh came a moment later that sounded more like defeat than anything else. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right.” Rich breathed in and he sighed again. “I’m just paranoid after all this calm.”

“Calm is good. We’re fine.” 

   Another pause. Someone had started to walk down the hall. Rich whisper-shouted a quick "wait," there was another pause as movement stopped, "are you worried about..."

"About?" Christine tried. There was a moment of silence, the sound of someone shifting weight on the floorboards, and then a soft, "oh."

"Something's up with him and he's not talking."

"Well have you asked?" There was silence, Christine sighed. "Rich if you want to get answers you have to ask questions. He won't just saunter up and openly speak about these things either. Talk to him in the morning."

  The conversation ended there as two sets of footsteps went back down the hall and the guest room door opened and closed.

  Jake decided against going outside and snuck back into bed. He started to wonder if conversations like that happened often. Did Rich really stress out about this stuff? Christine always seemed like a mom friend but it was even more obvious here. And two years… it didn’t add up they were gone for six. Jake didn’t even process Sebastian as some sort of local threat, either. There was a lot more about these kids than he thought, and over the week Jake barely made a dent in figuring them out.

  
  
   **Jake was seriously hoping tomorrow would turn out okay.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh that last scene was way different in the draft (it's an entirely different scene) so it feels kinda off? I dunno. I like it. Anyways! I'm hopefully gonna start getting things on a roll here soon : D

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if there is already a Wing AU out there somewhere, and if there is I'm sorry. But please enjoy this one, I've been working on it for a while.
> 
> If anyone wants to talk to my awkward self- be it about this AU, BMC, or you just wanna chat- my tumblr is techietheshit


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